The Influencer Discount

Things never to say to a serious tattooer. Episode 563. 

“I’m an influencer. I can rep you in a story.”

Translated into English?

”Can I have free shit.”

They all use the same game speak.

“It will be great exposure.”

Yeah, so is pulling my nut sack out at the DMV.

”I’ve got 50K followers, We should collab.”

Cool. I’ve got 50K in bills. Let’s collab on those.

Last I checked my landlord doesn’t take engagement. He still prefers money. And he has a really tactful way of telling me to go fuck myself.

My absolute favorite is, “I’ll post you to my audience.”

Who?

A hot yoga class full of twenty-year-old transplants who think buying a ring light makes them a venture capitalist?

Here’s what influencers never seem to understand. They’re not offering customers. They’re offering other influencers.

So you give away a $700 tattoo, they post a Story that disappears tomorrow morning, and your reward is exposure…

…to more people looking for free tattoos.

Nothing is more expensive than “free.”

It’s a pyramid scheme where the product is my time. Meanwhile, real tattoo careers have always been built the boring, old-fashioned way.

By collectors.

The people who paid for one tattoo, came back for another, brought their friends, and eventually ran out of skin.

Those people built this entire industry. Scab by scab.

Not someone whose greatest accomplishment is holding a latte in golden hour lighting, or walking into Der Wienerschnitzel and ordering a Cheesy Gordita Crunch.

Influencers always say: “This will be great for your brand.”

Tattooing had brands long before the internet swallowed everything and social media turned everyone into cross-eyed, thumb dancing morons.

Cap Coleman didn’t become Cap Coleman because somebody posted a tattoo haul, or live-streamed a Cybersigilism session into the cool Virginia evening. 

He became Cap Coleman because he spent decades tattooing thousands of sailors.

That’s how reputations are really built. One tattoo at a time. 

Followers aren’t currency. You can’t pay your insurance with them. You can’t buy Ink Eeze with them. And they disappear the second the algorithm decides we’d all rather watch a raccoon making pancakes with it’s own shit.

If you actually love tattooing, become a collector. Support working artists. Come back. Tell your friends. Because tattooers have only ever needed two things.

Money.

And skin.

Everything else is just marketing.

Although, an everything bagel with schmear never hurts.