If you’ve ever finished a tattoo, walked up to the counter, and felt your stomach drop a little when the payment screen asked how much you’d like to tip, you’re not alone. Most guides on how much to tip your tattoo artist will hand you a percentage. I want to give you something a little more honest.
At Inkvictus, when someone asks me how much they should tip, I point to the wall. There’s a sign there that says tipping is not expected here, but if you feel moved to, it never goes unnoticed.
That’s really my answer. I don’t believe anyone should be expected to give more than the price that was set for their piece. We quoted you for your tattoo, and that quote is what the work costs. Anything beyond that is a gift, and gifts are never owed.
I know that’s not what most posts on this topic will tell you, so let me walk you through where it comes from, how tipping actually works inside our studio, and what I’d suggest if you’d still like a number to go by.
Tipping culture has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. My very first job, at 16, was at a small seafood restaurant where everyone shared tips. At that age, I watched some people work incredibly hard and others barely work at all, and everyone walked out with the same amount. It never felt fair.
As I moved into other service jobs, I started noticing something nobody really teaches you. My tips had less to do with the check total, which is what everyone tells you to base it on, and much more to do with how I connected with the table. The tables I genuinely cared for were the ones who gave the most.
Tattooing feels exactly the same to me. I’m providing a service, and I’ve quoted you for that service. The tip is the icing on the cake, never the cake itself.
I’ve seen the other side of it too. Over the years I’ve watched artists, including some who used to work here, roll their eyes and say “they didn’t even tip me.” That attitude gets the priorities backwards. A tip is a gift, and nobody is entitled to a gift.
What’s interesting is that some of the artists I’ve worked alongside connect with their clients even more than I do, and their tips have been bigger because of it. Never expected, just earned through how someone felt in the chair. When you make a person feel like you genuinely care, they’ll want to give back if they can. Not because they have to, but because they want to.
Remember that seafood restaurant where everyone split the tips, no matter who did the work? At Inkvictus, I flipped that on its head. We share the pay. We don’t share the tips.
Here’s how it works. A portion of the whole studio’s revenue goes into a team pay pot. All full-timers get a guaranteed base pay first, then whatever profit is left gets split equally between all of us. When the studio does well, we all do well.
Tips are a different story. They have always gone 100% to the artist who did your work, since the day we opened, and they always will. Tips have never been split with other artists, never gone into the studio’s revenue, and never gone into my pocket as the owner. You gave that gift to that person, so it’s theirs.
So your artist’s paycheck is already taken care of before you ever reach for your wallet. Anything extra you leave is exactly what it should be: a thank you.
After seven years, there are far too many to count. A few, though, have stayed with me.
There was the 22 cents from a client who could only afford a Pay What You Can tattoo and still wanted me to have a little something more. There have been tips with a couple of zeros on the end, from people who believe in me and in what this studio stands for. And there are the clients who didn’t leave anything extra at all, but went home and wrote us a Google review or sent a friend our way.
Every single one of those meant something to me. When you take the monetary value out of a tip, it changes everything. It stops being a number and becomes a way of saying, “I see you, and I appreciated this.”
If you search how much to tip your tattoo artist online, you’ll usually see something like 15 to 25 percent quoted as the standard. I completely understand wanting a number. When you’re already nervous about a new experience, it feels safer to know the rules.
The honest truth is that I can’t give you a practical number, because it really is subjective. A tip reflects your experience and your budget, and you’re the only one who knows both. I’d like to believe the good side of this industry would be grateful for anything you choose to give, and wouldn’t think any less of you for giving nothing.
So if you’re looking for a guideline on how much to tip your tattoo artist, here’s mine: give what feels right to you, when you’re able to, and only because you want to.
Every studio runs a little differently, and that’s okay. The studios whose culture you’ll love will usually make it known before you ever walk through the door, and they’ll make it known loudly.
A few easy ways to get a feel for it:
And if you can’t afford to tip your tattoo artist, please, for the love of all things holy, don’t. You saved up for your piece, and that is not a small thing. Walking out with art you love and your budget still intact is a win in our book.
Tipping is really only half of the money conversation. The other half is pricing. No one enjoys sitting in the chair with no idea what something is going to cost, only to hear a number at the end they weren’t even remotely expecting. At Inkvictus, you’ll know your price before we ever begin.
Our approach to tipping is studiowide, too. It’s the same whether you’re here for a tattoo, a piercing, nails, or esthetics, even though the nail and beauty world often trains people to tip by default. That’s exactly why the sign is on our wall. And when someone does choose to leave a tip, we always make a point to genuinely thank them.
We’ve actually talked about removing the tip option from our iPad payment screen altogether. We haven’t, because so many people want to give. Our community is incredibly generous, to our team, to our Community Care Table, and so much more. We never want to make giving harder for the people who choose to. We just never want anyone to feel like they have to.
If you’re a tattooer reading this and feeling frustrated that clients don’t tip enough, I want to gently offer another way to look at it. Your pricing should reflect what you need without counting on a tip. The business side of things should be covered without relying on the generosity of your clients’ wallets.
At the end of the day, our clients are our boss. They’re the reason we get to do this work and pay our bills. Whether a tip happens or not, it doesn’t change their value as a person. If that’s a hard thing to sit with, it may be worth taking a step back to reevaluate where you are in this industry.
What I’ve found actually makes people want to give is connection, the same way it worked for me back when I was waiting tables. People crave connection and community. The warmer and more welcome you make someone feel, the more naturally they’ll want to give back when they’re able to.
And honestly, isn’t knowing a client truly enjoyed their time with you enough?
So, how much should you tip your tattoo artist? Whatever feels right to you, whenever you’re able, and nothing at all if that’s what your budget needs. A good studio prices its work fairly, tells you that price up front, and treats any tip for exactly what it is: a gift.
If you take just one thing away from this post, let it be this. Respecting a person and respecting their wallet go hand in hand, and doing good goes hand in hand with both.
Don’t treat people as bad as they are. Treat people as good as you are.
We’d love to see you at Inkvictus. And if you’re not in the Raleigh area, look for a studio that treats you this way. They’re out there, and you deserve one. ♡
Chat soon,
Natascha Fuchs