Dressing up in business suits, sitting at a desk, talking finances was success for my mom, but boring to me and just not where my heart was. So being the diligent daughter I was, I listened to my mom and got my business degree and went to work for one the biggest firms on Wall Street. Ok, dream diverted for now.maybe it was a bad idea anyway. She shot me down and told me to get a "real" job. I went back to the shop, told my mom I wanted to learn cosmetic tattooing. I liked and respected that, I was totally intrigued. Here's an artist who created art with her own bare hands, changed the life of women, and was a total lady-boss. After only 10 minutes of barely endurable torture on my eyes, I received my first eyeliner tattoo and was thrilled although my eyes were throbbing and tearing. Buzz-buzz, scratch-scratch, more buzzing, some tears, and it was over. Then came the needle.I closed my eyes and tried to relax. She couldn't have said more than 10 words to me. My artist wore a face mask, instructed me to lay down, close my eyes and keep quiet. She said it really hurt, but it was too late for me to back out.
My friend went in first and after about 15 minutes, she came out tearful, but alive. We thought about turning back but remembered we already paid so that was out of the question. Names were called and women came and went quickly into the small little room in the back, afterwards all with tissues in their hands, blotting at their eyes. We were instructed to pay upfront in cash and quickly shuffled to our seats. One day, my friend dragged me to go with her to get permanent eyeliner and being 18 years old, I said "sure, why not"! We walked into a simple, hole-in-the-wall esthetics shop where at least 15 women sat in plain chairs, waiting for their name to be called. My parents didn't realize it at the time, but the family business would teach me more about people and problem solving more than any textbook could. They thought anything would better than being a shop owner. Knowing how hard it is to run your own business, my parents always encouraged me to get a higher education so I could get a "real job", like a doctor or a lawyer. Looking back, I now realize the delicate work that I had been doing since I was 10 years old would serve me well as a tattoo artist and product designer.
Tina davies tv#
While other kids were watching TV or playing sports, I was making jewelry. Designing was fun and a part of my teenage life. Day in and day out, we custom designed our own masterpieces of jewelry-picking the best pearls and gemstone one by one, mixing and matching colors, remodeling old designs and making them new again. Our family business was our home away from home where we gathered, laughed, quarreled, ate, hosted visitors, and spent all of our time together.
Helping out was the norm and pretty much how I spent my weekends and summer vacations. Later they sold the business and my mom decided to open a small retail jewelry store.
After five years, they saved enough money to open their first restaurant and made $.25 per customer serving the best Chinese food in town. Watching my parents struggle to fit into a foreign country while working long days and in odd jobs was normal. A little about me.I grew up as an only child to immigrant parents who arrived in San Francisco with $100 in their pocket and a suitcase filled with dreams.
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