Design Story: VINTAGE TATTOO

Method: Illustrations and digital art

Artist: Persephone Singfield

Artist Quote

Vintage Tattoo (drawing and digital art) was born from my yearning to get the fluffy ego stuff off the yoga mat and let it get dirty. Yoga isn’t always light and fluffy; in fact, it is sometimes challenging, heavy and even emotional. I couldn’t find anything in the yoga apparel world to express this grittiness, so I created it. I hung out in Harley Davidson shops, I took a motorbike handling course, I bought leather things with studs, listened to Joan Jett and collected vintage tattoo books. I got artists drawing what I wanted to see (drawing not my strong point!) and I held my breath as I put out into the world what my heart desired. And it felt awesome! I never considered myself an artist but more of a creative. My art tends to grow out of a need to absolutely make manifest a dream or inspiration. When I can’t find it anywhere out here in the physical I am forced to birth it. Art to me doesn’t have the energy of reason; it has the energy of release. Something is trying to get out of me and all I need to do is light up the path toward the exit by following what feels open and exciting. I grew up on the back of a motorcycle and loved the freedom while feeling the summer air on my face and watching the world go by as I clung to my father’s belly. I always appreciated the motorcyclists fashion, how they decorated their bikes and tattooed their skin. The vintage tattoo style is somewhat nostalgic of my childhood. Now-a-days tattoo art has come such a long way with different techniques of the art as well as it becoming more common to get a tattoo. I remember eyeing up the body art in my childhood wrapped around arms, legs, chests and backs. If you had a tattoo it meant you were tough and maybe even a little rough. I once attended a Harley Davidson rally and immersed myself in the culture for a weekend. I watched the burn out competition where they’d place the bike on a flat surface, sit one gorgeous lady in heels and leather on its seat. Four burly male members would hold the bike in place whilst the lady proceeded to rev the accelerator. Massive smoke clouds billowed out from the spinning back tire of the bike along with the stench of burning rubber. The danger factor was half exhilarating and half ‘this is downright stupid” as I imagined the men losing grip and the bike flying through the crowd with lady a top!