Owner, artist, visionary

how this artist created her dream studio in West Hollywood

Photos courtesy of Zoey taylor.

Zoey Taylor: I never went to [college or high school]. I was pulled out of kindergarten and that was it. I grew up in Louisiana, Colorado, and Oregon. The last time I was in the classroom, it has spanking and naps. I grew up in the middle of nowhere, kinda. Very much, not kind of. 

Lizzie Bromley: Do you feel like that affected who you became in life? 

ZT: One hundred percent. I mean, I have no clue who I would be otherwise. 

LB: So what inspired you to start tattooing? How did you get here? 

ZT: It's kind of been a roundabout way. I was always drawing. I was obsessed with drawing since I was little. My stepdad for punishment, if he was really, really pissed at me, wouldn't let me draw. I remember drawing sharpie tattoos on my brother in my early teens, but I never really had the thought of doing it as a career. I was set on being a painter. I only painted with acrylics; I never got into oils because we couldn't afford that shit. I wanted to go into advertising. I don't know, I was a dead set on painting for ads because in the first half of the century that was such a cool career. It's kind of irrelevant now with computers…but I wasn't that in touch with what computers were doing, so to me, it was still a great career path. 

LB: Were you always interested in tattoos as an art form? How did you pick up your first tattoo gun?

ZT: Vaguely, but not extremely. I was doing a series of hot rod pinup paintings and there were a few of them being published in magazines and this guy, a friend of a friend, who was a tattoo artist and had a classic car, wanted me to do a painting with his girlfriend in his car or something like that. And I, a 17-year-old, little businesswoman, was like, "you gotta pay me, motherfucker". Well, he didn't want to pay me, so he was like, "Oh, well you should learn how to tattoo. Buy all this shit, I'll teach you how to tattoo in trade for the painting". I was like, "that sounds like fun!" But then I bought all of the stuff and he moved out of town. So I didn't know what to do with it. But I was like, "how hard can this be? Let's figure it out". I bought this book that had been published in the ’80s and I figured it would tell me everything I need to know. Yeah, I made a lot of a lot of mistakes there. Yeah. Fucked up a lot of people. 

LB: Did you start with tattooing other people you started? 

ZT: Oh yeah, I didn't want to fuck myself up. When I first started I had no intention of sticking with it. It was like years ago. I was dead set on doing real art, like painting, but then as I got into it longer, I started realizing the responsibility that came with it. You can't just fuck around with this. This is not something you should dabble in. So then I like stopped and was like "I need to take this seriously or stop doing it". And then that's when I was like, "OK, I'm gonna take it seriously". I needed to weigh my career options and what I was going to do. And I was like, "dude, I have no education. I've never been to high school and never had a job before, trying to go out and do something a little more sophisticated is probably not going to work for me". So I kind of fell into it, but I love it. 

LB: Have you tattooed yourself? 

ZT: Yeah, a couple of years later I did. I just didn't want to fuck myself up [at first]. 

LB: So you own this shop? How is it being a woman owning a tattoo shop? 

ZT: Mhmm, I don't know as opposed to being a man owning a shop, I don't know how much gender has to do with what it feels like, but it's alright. It's interesting because I had worked in this shop before when it was somebody else's. And then I left and opened a private space and came back and bought this one. I've always been in love with this place, I have to be here. I don't know, but it’s something about the energy or something. There's like all these random connections. I stuck [working here before I owned it] out so long because I love this place and they were just treating me like shit and running the place into the ground. I was like, "I can't stick around and watch this happen", so I left. And then I worked for myself for a couple of years and I realized it's not healthy as an artist to work for yourself for too long, it gets very stifled. So I was like, "I'm gonna open a bigger shop, I want to create the kind of place that I was wish I could work in. Hopefully, all my friends will come to work there". And so I picked the name Warren, which is a group of rabbits. I had all this shit arranged already. I had all the legal paperwork and everything. I just didn't know where my shop was gonna be at. And then my old boss from this place called me and asked me if I knew anyone who wanted to buy it. I was like, "I don't have the money for that...yes, I do [want to buy it], I'll figure it out". And then it was almost a year later that I was signing the new lease. And I realize the family that owns this building and has since I think the beginning, their last name was Warren. I just have all these weird connections to this building. So, I don't know. It's just a special place. But as far as what it's like to be a business owner, it's a lot of responsibility and it's a lot of pressure. I used to just focus on my work. I think it must be like what normal people's childhoods are like when you grow up and are like, "oh, those were the carefree days". That was like the earlier part of my career to an extent, but now it is a lot of responsibility. And if I fail or fuck something up, it's not just screwing it up for myself, it's for a whole bunch of people I care about. 

LB: What made you want to own or run a shop? 

ZT: Honestly. It's something I actively didn't want to do, and I used to tell people all the time like I'm not going to do that, no one wants to deal with all that shit. I think the reason I ultimately did is after the way I was being treated here at the last shop, just like these little power trips and shit. I was always the hardest worker. I was here before everybody. I always stayed later than everybody for its seven days a week when I scheduled like two and a half. I was a hard worker. And, you know, you bring in a little 22-year-old douche bag as a manager and she wants to have a power struggle. She's like, "you can't do this, you can't use this computer, I can't have you coming in at this hour doing that". Nobody had my back, so it was a multitude of problems. It wasn't simple. But honestly, I've been through so many shitty scenarios working in other people's shops and after I would always say, "why can't you just work in a shop like this, or like that, or like that?" Eventually, I was like, "if it doesn't exist then I'm going to have to make it. I don't want to work in these environments anymore, I need to create the environment I want to be in". It didn't come from a sense of like "I want to run things". 

LB: Did you feel like a lot of the struggles that you faced were focused on you or were a lot of the artists treated poorly? 

ZT: Both? I think if you don't make waves, you know, you cause fewer problems. And I've never been able to blend in well. 

LB: What do you love the most about tattooing? 

ZT: It's a really interesting art medium that's so unlike everything else for so many reasons. It's like, it's not a solitary art process like so many other things can be. It's a collaboration with your client. And it's, I don't know. It's makes everything. It keeps you guessing. It makes everything interesting. It walks away at the end, you know. And they die sometimes! Like, that's so weird. We just spent like two years doing that and then you died. It's weird. With other things, if you create something, if you don't destroy it or throw it away, it's always there. It's weird. 

LB: It is interesting that I can go get a tattoo from someone and then never see them again.

ZT: But you'll remember that day and that moment for the rest of your life. Sometimes people walk by and I'm like, "did I do that?". 

LB: Do people ever recognize you when you're out? 

ZT: All the time. But it's an unfair advantage, I'm very recognizable. Like it's cheating. It's like identifiable tattoos and I always dress the same. It's cheating. 

LB: What inspires your style? 

ZT: Oh, my God. So, so much shit. Everything goes back to the weird childhood I had because...I didn't have to go to school. We didn't have TV or phones or neighbors, we were very isolated. I was very out of touch with what was current and what was not. I saw a piece of an Elvis movie one time and had no idea that shit was 50 years old. I was like, "that looks amazing. I wanna dress like that when I grow up!" We were so fucking poor and it was just an image that never left.  

LB: How many tattoos do you think you've done? 

ZT: No clue. It would be cool to figure it out. Yeah, it's been years. And most of my career was five to seven days a week. Today was one guy all day, some days it can be four. Back when I started, I think my record is like eleven in a day? Yeah. I've probably done more than that in a day. I have no idea. Tens of thousands? 

LB: Do you like the products that are bigger and take longer to do? 

ZT: Yes. There's something so interesting about designing a bold composition. You know, I love that. 

LB: What inspires your tattoos?

ZT: I don't know. I mean I have my whole Beatrix Potter arm. I had a dream about it. I had been saving this arm for this floral, Japanese floral sleeve. And I had this dream that I had this Beatrix Potter sleeve. I woke up and I was like, "that is fucking brilliant, that's what I'm going to do". So that's what inspired that. This one, I just love old cowboys. These are old cowboy comic books. I like how different they are, but they do work together. 

LB: Who does your tattoos? 

ZT: Most of them are done by a client who also works here. One of my oldest friends. I met him when I first moved to LA years ago. He was one of the people where I was like, "I'm going to open my shop, you should come!". It used to be a way less friendly of an industry. It's still not friendly across the board, but it's gotten a lot better. The younger generation isn't aware of all the bullshit from the last generation, so they can't carry it on I think.

LB: What are your biggest takeaways; have you learned any unexpected lessons? 

ZT: I think there's is a huge side to what we do that people forget a lot about. You should be humble and honored for the trust that people give you. I think a lot of people in our industry forget that. And it's a reminder now and for the rest of my life, the trust that people have. And just to remain humble enough to remember that you're serving the people rather than...I feel like there's a misconception or maybe most artists feel this way, but they're like, "it's my art to put on, I can do whatever I want". But it's a service industry. I'm performing a service for you and you're trusting me to do it. So I think that's one of the things that people forget about what's important, I've noticed. And I think the thing I'm learning now has been teaching younger artists and that's been probably the coolest thing yet. I mean, it's hard to predict what I need to do next or have a plan because I never was taught. I guess I just try and give or do the things I wish I had. 

LB: What are those types of things? 

ZT: Guidance, guidance. Oh my God, I learned everything like trial and error. Like I fucked things up and then was like, oh shit, that did not work. And that's how I learned. But now I can tell somebody, "hey, don't do it this way because here's what's going to happen" and they're like, "oh, cool" and never make the mistake. That's amazing. I've saved them years. Like there's this girl here at that we trained and she's going to be way better than me and I think that's the coolest thing ever. 

LB: Have you ever heard of anyone getting one of your tattoos removed?

ZT: Yeah. But sometimes it'll be like not even like, "I hated that it was ugly". They'll be like, "you know, now I want you to do something else" or "I broke up with that person that I got this with" or whatever. But ironically, I've seen it quite a few times. I used to be a lot more judge-y. I didn't think I was judging. I thought I was like looking out for everybody. I didn't think I was judging. But is like the environment, what I was raised in as an artist, a tattoo artist, like in the shops, "you can't do that, you can't do that, it's our job to like regulate what other people outside of us are allowed to get". We don't do that shit anymore. I just talk to people and be real with them. And I'm like, "Hey, this is going to cause a problem with you. I know because I've been there. Here's what you're going to have to deal with. Is that something you want to do?" But in the end, I'm not their mom. So I don't try to regulate people anymore. I think I used to. If it's something that I don't feel good about, I just won't do it no matter how excited they are about. Case by case, I always try and be very polite and never want to hurt people's feelings. But, you know, if I may say, you know what? I'm just not the right artist for you. While I'm thinking, "what is your fucking problem?" It depends on the situation. There's been quite a variety of them. 

LB: Is there art that you're not excited to do? 

ZT: Yeah. Yeah. And I used to take it anyway cause I'm like, "I've gotta do everything!" Now I'm just like, "you know what? I'm just not that excited about it. Not that there's anything wrong with it. But you deserve an artist who is excited about it" and they're like, "Okay, well I appreciate that". 

LB: They're like "you're kind of empowering me"? 

ZT: Literally, but also, "you might be a bitch? I'm not sure".

LB: Are there any messages that you would want a younger person to know who's an aspiring artist? 

ZT: Yes. Work harder than everybody else. The most important thing you can do right now. Work harder than literally everybody else put together.