Bailey Hunter Robinson

Can you explain where your personal interests grew from?

Instagram and Pinterest (laughs). But really, it was my father. He was born in 1931 in the same house I grew up in. I’m a 4th generation Alabaman; my great grandfather was a deputy sheriff in Wilcox County. My dad was a big sportsman and collector –  he spent a lot of time hunting in The Yukon, Montana, Colorado, and Alaska. He even did glacier hunts up until he was in his 60’s, which is crazy. He had a great eye for stuff and he was always collecting; I always heard him say, “You don’t own anything, you just get to have it for awhile.” I grew up in a house with crazy antiques, not the junk I have now but fine European antiques. We weren’t wealthy by any means but he had good taste. Every taxidermy animal we had in the house was one he had killed. In 1983, he killed the world’s largest barren-ground caribou. We had full-size grizzly bears, bobcats, deer, you name it. I used to go hunting all the time with my dad.

We lived in a town of 3000. I was always around older people, never kids. On the weekends, classmates would be like “Oh we’re going to play soccer” or something to that effect and I would always say “Well I’m going to my dad’s hunting camp.” I’d just hang with my dad and his buddies. They would drink scotch, watch football, and then go stalk hunting for deer or wild boar. In the summer, we would plant food plots. I was just doing old people shit.

That explains your fascination with old things.

Yeah, I collect old junk – probably because I grew up around it. I like old clothes too, but have moved on somewhat from that. I have a few old things that I still wear but with the progression of modern techniques, vintage items are not as necessary. For example, I don’t have to look for 1930’s Chippewa boots – I can buy some newer ones and send them to this guy Brian in LA and he can put all the classic touches on it. They won’t fall apart either, because they’re brand new and his craftsmanship is amazing. Sometimes it’s cool to not have old stuff, but rather products that are designed with a nod to the past. I don’t want my bikes to be period specific; I love 60’s choppers and the details on them but do enjoy a few modern components as well.

I stand corrected – would you say that you’re into well-made things?

Yeah, I’m into things that are made well. If you pick up clothing from newer Japanese denim brands, you can easily see that it’s something that will be here 100 years from now just like a pair of Big Smith overalls that someone busted ass in back in the 30’s. You can’t say the same for mass produced Levi’s that are falling apart as soon as you put them on. Putting on a well-made garment that I paid fair money for makes me feel better about myself.

Growing up I wore shirts from Dollar General or whatever, and the fucked up thing is that back then they were made so well. I didn’t grow up wearing super fancy stuff; growing up in Alabama there really wasn’t much to choose from. But the stuff all lasted.

What was your first tattoo?

It was this cool Chinese dragon, it was so shitty but yet so awesome. All of my friends were getting crust punk tattoos like Initial State or Antischism album covers. I was looking at guys with old tattoos and they didn’t have album covers, they had a cool dragon. I just saw it from a different perspective, I guess. The idea of quality didn’t even exist back then; the only thing on my mind was getting an image tattooed on me.  I remember the high I felt after I got that first tattoo – I was 16. The dude charged me $60 bucks, and halfway through he just looked at me and said, “You got that $60, kid?” I called him afterwards and was like “You changed my life, this is awesome” and he was basically like “Oh yeah it’s a big deal. Your life changed. Now fuck off.” I was getting good tattoos when I was younger; then at some point I just got covered in garbage. Not sure what happened.

Do you feel that by tattooing out of your own studio that you’re able to shape that environment better?

Yeah, for sure. I enjoy working in my private space; I almost hate to charge people because we hang out and relax alongside tattooing. Clients just come in, take their shoes off and hang out – they are my client for the day and they have my entire focus. Unlike getting tattooed at a shop surrounded by several other artists and customers, the only energy here is myself and the client. There are less variables to affect the experience. You also get to look around and see all of the stuff that I’m into, all the junk that I collect. Plus, I’m a brat – I like to listen to what I want when I want. I wasn’t raised like that but that’s how I like it (laughs). Probably the reason why I’m 34 and single. There’s also the element of dedication that comes into play when you’re getting tattooed by someone privately. When I was in a shop taking walk-ins, customers might not always get their pieces finished or whatever. Now you have to jump through some hoops to find me; I guess you must want to get tattooed pretty bad if you do end up coming to me.

That being said, I love doing guest spots at some of the best shops in the country. I absorb and learn so much from guest spotting.  Whenever I get a hankering now to go somewhere, I head somewhere for a week. I have a lot of friends who are really generous to let me work in their shops and take care of me. I’m looking forward to going back to a shop full time.

In your opinion, what’s one of the biggest changes that’s happened to tattooing?

I think that social media has altered people’s realities. This whole “give me everything now and it needs to be perfect” attitude that has surfaced is terrible. Nothing is picturesque in life; it’s okay to have little imperfections here and there. But social media has created unrealistic expectations and short attention spans. Your tattoo might have a little blowout or it might not look as perfect as it did on paper, but in my opinion it’s good for tattoos to have a little soul. It doesn’t have to look like all the other ones you’ve seen on Instagram. Tattooers got out of bed in the morning and went to work, just like you – but for some reason we all believe now that tattoos will forever look as good as they did on your iPhone. You’re not young forever; you get old and your body fails. That’s why I love old tattoos and seeing how they age, but a lot of people these days don’t feel the same way.

Can you tell us about your paintings?

I’m not a painter per se, I just paint tattoo stuff and watercolors. I also use gouache sometimes, drawing ink, and a nib pen to outline. When I first started, it was all tattoo flash – just the way it’s supposed to be. Once I got the fundamentals down, I got a little braver. Now I love to paint flash but have also worked some other stuff into the mix.

Beyond art, painting is like therapy for me as well. Six or seven nights a week I’m just home painting after I’m done tattooing for the day. I have cardboard boxes full of paintings; it’s just for me. I’ll give some away but that’s not why I do it. I would love to learn how to oil paint one day.  I love George Catlin’s old west paintings and other no-name paintings as well.

Did you paint before you tattooed?

No. Well, I tried; short story, I sucked at it and I still did even when I started tattooing. It’s been a slow process and for me, consistency is one of the hardest things to achieve as a painter. Sometimes I look at an old painting and honestly wonder “How did I do that?” Other times I don’t paint for two weeks and when I pick up a brush it feels like I’m starting from scratch. Sometimes you eat the bear and sometimes the bear eats you.

I’m still learning how to paint. A few weeks ago I was with Jacob Redmond and we stayed up until 4am every night painting these big pieces; I spent so much time just watching him and his techniques. I learned a lot of new stuff from him.

Visible tattoos are pretty commonplace here in NYC. What’s it like for you when you go back down South, given that you’re so heavily covered?

It’s funny, I’ll get hassled by tat bros here in NYC who look at me and try to figure out who I am with all the tattoos. I’ll be on the train and someone will say “Damn, you tatted up fool” or something. I dress like a kook too which doesn’t help. But then I go home to Alabama and no one gives a shit what I look like.

I rode from Austin to Baltimore this past November. I’m a crazy looking guy on a crazy looking bike riding down 65 and yet people were so nice to me; so kind. I would be getting gas and have a real conversation with somebody. I feel like when you go to places that are ‘real America,’ like the America that people don’t want to talk about, those people are generally awesome. There’s something special about them. I’ll go hang out late at night in Asheville with homeless guys or crazy train hoppers and have these cool conversations. I just love real conversation.

Why is that rare here?

We live in New York City, it’s a joke here. My rent is silly. No real person pays that kind of rent. I’ve met a lot of amazing people over the years, but a lot of those people got priced out and have since moved away. It used to be so cool and fun. I’m not an old head New York dude, but I was enjoying myself here. It’s changed, though – and so have I. Williamsburg used to be filled with artists and skate rats. Even if we didn’t agree on most things, there seemed to be a similar ideal structure in place. At this point, I’m sitting in a restaurant and the people next to me who are the same age are super uptight and they don’t want the same things from life that I do.

I’m moving west in a few weeks.  I truly don’t make the amount of money necessary to sustain a viable life here. I want to live in a smaller town; I need some nature.

But career-wise, NYC was good for you.

Oh yeah, it was so good. I was here right when the resurgence in New York tattoo came back.  It was the right place at the right time. I’m very fortunate. New York has been very good to me. It hasn’t crushed me or spit me out like it’s done to others. But I want to breathe some fresh air, maybe have some pet goats or something. I love guns and tractors. I didn’t need that when I was younger; I wanted to live in the city. At 24 years old, NYC was rad – but inevitably, I was going to want something more natural, closer to my roots. Hopefully people will still want to get cool tattoos from me wherever I go.

Can you talk about your daughter?

I love her to death; she’s my little buddy. We all have this idea of how things should be, and they never are – but that’s life. I think with my kid I had an idea of how things would be. She doesn’t look like I imagined, but she acts just like me. She’s like a cat; she doesn’t like being touched unless she wants to be. I’m the same way. She even dresses herself and has a cool style. She’s like a strong little woman, it’s pretty nuts. She’s the coolest: really sure of herself and confident.

I’ve had to go through some crazy legal shit. The way you are treated as a father who wants to be involved is pretty abhorrent.  The system doesn’t like you to be involved – they want you to either disappear or pay up. It’s not designed for a father to be around. I love my kid and I wish I had her all the time; it’s been difficult. I’ve learned a lot about myself through it though, and when I see her I try to make the most of it with her. We’re talking plow ups, motordrome shows, nature centers. I hope that when she’s older she will want to be with me half the time. That would be great. That’s another reason I wanted to move out of New York: I wanted to be able to afford to see her more and be down in Asheville more often. It was difficult for me to see her sometimes since I needed to work all the time to afford to live in NYC.

What continues to push you to become better at your craft?

I don’t want to get better just for better’s sake. It’s hard to explain, I want to get better for my sake. It’s like an obsession. Tattooing is all I have. I don’t have anything else. I can hardly add, if I’m being perfectly honest.

I always want to get better. I never want to be complacent. I never want there to be a moment where I’m like ‘well, that was my pinnacle’ – fuck that. I want to continue to improve until I physically can’t tattoo anymore. The most important thing about tattooing for me is to keep learning. I’m thankful that the people around me are also the people I look up to. It means a lot to get help from them. I feel like this special fire has been handed over to me every time I learn something new; the slightest tip gets me so pumped. That’s how I got started using rotary machines for color and stuff. I wasn’t comfortable with them but I kept asking questions and stuck with it and now it’s all I use. I’m always hungry to learn something, and I’m never satisfied.