Destynee McMichael wouldn’t date a guy who doesn’t have tattoos.

“I don’t feel bad about not having a tattoo myself,” said McMichael, junior in FAA, “but it’s just weird if guys don’t have any.”

McMichael believes tattoos are alluring in a naughty way. While she acknowledges that not everyone finds tattoos sexy, she’s pretty sure most people consider them rebellious.

According to a national Harris Interactive poll, 50 percent of those with no tattoos and 25 percent of inked people feel individuals with tattoos are more rebellious.

McMichael’s friend Astarte Howell, senior in FAA, has two tattoos in discrete locations. Howell loves her tattoos and is sick of older people thinking tattoos are reserved for soldiers and prostitutes.

“This is my big hurrah about tattoos, so listen up,” Howell said, halting her cell conversation mid-sentence, “tattoos have gone from something disgraceful to a badge of honor.”

McMichael, who has been in tattoo parlors to get piercings, added that stereotypes about tattoo culture have a lot to do with tattoo parlors themselves. She thinks parlors are rebellious by refusing to appear as the cleanest businesses.

“All the tattoo shops I’ve been in had grungy, white, biker-type, rough people in them,” she said, laughingly. “They’re pretty interesting places.”

But perhaps McMichael hasn’t met Jeromey “Tilt” McCulloch, who owns the tidy Newlife Tattoos in Champaign.

“I mean, people have their pants down a lot in here,” McCulloch said, referring to how tattoo aficionados like to show off their art no matter the location, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not clean.”

Newlife Tattoos is licensed by the Illinois Department of Public Health. McCulloch was required to pay $500 and pass an inspection before receiving his license. In order for parlors to pass, they must use new or sterilized needles and provide 40 square feet of space for workstations and hand-washing facilities. The licensing act was put into effect in 2009 to prevent the spread of Hepatitis and HIV.

Although McCulloch seems to have convinced most of his customers that his place is harmless, he hasn’t convinced all outsiders that he himself is.

He hates it when he takes his wife out to a nice restaurant and the host seats them in the back in order to not scare away customers. McCulloch believes this happens because of the visible tattoos on his neck.

To break stereotypes, McCulloch dons slacks and neatly pressed dress shirts even while tattooing.

Additionally, McCulloch hates how reality TV shows based in tattoo parlors present a false image of tattooists. Customers come into his shop expecting the characters and shenanigans they’ve seen on TV. He recalls seeing a commercial for a reality tattoo show on the TLC network and being taken aback.

“There was more drama in that one TV commercial than there has been in our shop in a year,” he said. “We’re all just normal guys here. We’re in our 30s and want families.”

Recently, McCulloch moved from a house in the country to the suburbs. He has a baby on the way and sincerely hopes he or she will grow up in a more accepting world.

It is perhaps due to a lack of tattoo acceptance that Thaddeus Andracki, senior in LAS, has put off getting a tattoo.

He said when he eventually gets one he’ll want it in a location where he can cover it up. He tries not to hold stereotypes regarding tattoo culture, but he still thinks tattooed people have a common bond that alienates others.

“Tattoo shops don’t necessarily seem like friendly places,” Andracki said. “They don’t seem like places you’d just walk into and hang out at unless you’re part of that sub-culture.”

Jason Dunavan, a tattooist at Five Star Tattoo in Champaign, agrees with that assessment. He said the hardest part of getting a tattoo is walking through the door. As a kid, he was terrified of the tattoo shop in his hometown of Danville, about 35 miles east of Champaign.

“I just assumed they ate babies and were crazy,” Dunavan said. “There was no way in hell I was going in there.”

But the rebellion and mystique of tattoo culture eventually drew him in.

Dunavan doesn’t necessarily want to scare people away, but he thinks it’s good that walk-ins are a bit nervous. After all, a tattoo is permanent for people without the finances for tattoo removal.

“That fear is a sign of respect,” he said, pulling his black, knit cap further down over his pitch-black hair. “Tattoo artists are the only professionals who everyone from athletes to doctors to musicians look up to. They can’t do what I do and they know it.”

Dunavan has kids and makes sure they are not as intimidated as some adults who enter his place of work. He hung some bright artwork in the shop for this very reason. Mostly, Dunavan’s children and their friends think his tattoos are cool.

“I get a lot of ridiculous questions from 7-year-olds,” he said, cracking a smile. “Kids are curious in general and just want to know about stuff they can’t have.”