vlad.tribnet.com / Issue #148 / Social life / Reading article...

There are no bikers or surly punks. But if you want a detailed, Western-style tattoo, join the line outside Adrenaline in Second River. Good news: Navel-piercing is next.

The young lady winces as the tiny needle enters her thigh. With a furrowed brow, artist Sergei Averin injects ink along the penciled outline of two fighting dogs.

No bigger than a matchbox, the picture will take eight hours to complete. But despite the $100 price tag and two uncomfortable afternoons in an old dentist's chair, the tattoo is worth it.

"I think it's beautiful," the woman says, looking at the two snarling, bloodied dogs. "I fight pit bulls. The tattoo represents my style of life."

Victoria Medvedeva is one of the many Vladivostok residents lining up for detailed, Western-style tattoos at Adrenaline, a two-room space out in Second River opened in May by Yevgeny and Tatiana Karkavin. A couch, some chairs, and a desk crowd into one room cluttered with tattoo magazines. In the other sits the old dentist's chair, as well as all the necessary inking and sterilization supplies.

There aren't any surly bikers milling outside the entrance. No punk rockers with their combat boots and dyed hair. It's a modest, unassuming place without all the Generation X machismo of western salons. The married Karkavins are actually two wholesome looking kids. Yevgeny has one inconspicuous tattoo on his left shoulder. Tatiana has a dragon on her leg, and a small pouncing tiger on her midriff. Their tattoos are all conveniently covered up by clothing.

In the United States and Europe, tattooing has become a popular way of fitting in with other kids going through the rituals of growing up. It's done for shock value. It's done because it looks cool.

Tatiana, however, believes that tattooing is an art form, and that each tattoo should mean something for its wearer. She dreamed about her first tattoo for two years.

"It's a piece of the person's soul – maybe a symbol of their lives or something that happened to them," she says. "I try to explain that it's a present to people for all their lives."

And occasionally, it does take some convincing. In a society where the word tattoo evokes images of sloppy, uneven doodles on the arms of a sailor or prisoner, the older generation hasn't welcomed Adrenaline with open arms. Medvedeva doesn't dare tell her parents. She says her mother would have a fit, and probably not talk to her for weeks.

Her son and husband, however, love the tattoo.

Indeed, where the older folks fear to tread, the younger generation has already made a well-traveled footpath. Tatiana says that the youngest tattoo seeker to enter the salon was 16. The oldest was 45. And they'll take clients of all ages. There is no minimum age limit for tattooing, so long as a child is accompanied by a parent.

And what lifelong gifts are Vlad residents giving themselves? According to Tatiana, the orders of the day are dragons, tigers, Celtic designs, and some religious symbols. The worst one to come out of the parlor, she says, was a "big green head of hell."

The tattoo craze is growing fast. Business is steady, and Averin does two tattoos every day. Tatiana constantly answers questions for a steady flow of people getting inspiration from the stacks of magazines or coming in for inspiration, period.

But watch out, Vladivostok. In the next month Adrenaline will offer electrolysis, to keep any stray hairs from obscuring the latest addition to your personal canvas. By the end of the year, you'll have the option of matching the colors of your tattoo with a new color for your hair. And in three months, you can compliment that new tattoo with a nose stud or belly-button ring. Tatiana's already surfing the web and reading books, sharpening up on her developing skills to become Vladivostok's resident piercer.