Cherry Bomb is a queer owned studio offering custom tattoos, safe walk-in piercings, and long lasting tooth gems, all in a judgement free space that puts artistry, consent, and community first.
Press featuring Cherry Bomb
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Ultimately, these tattooists have more to offer than sapphic solidarity. They’re skilled, unique artists, and because they’ve created their own studios with women and queer people in mind, they have the freedom, power, and agency to develop individual styles. Cassandra DeJesus, a makeup artist, was drawn to Cherry Bomb Studio, a queer-owned tattoo shop in the Lower East Side, because of its inclusivity—but she decided to get a tattoo there because of the artists’ work. “A TikTok about them being a woman-based tattoo shop and also queer really caught my attention. I was looking through their artists, and I found something I really liked, so I got a tattoo from them,” she said. “Girls are just my comfort space, and honestly, I found it really empowering.”
Queer and women’s liberation and artistic liberation are inextricable in these spaces. Jade Caton, a tattoo artist, enjoys working at Cherry Bomb because the studio gives artists the freedom to pursue their creativity. “I think the biggest draw of what pulls people in here is definitely the uniqueness of the artists that we have,” she said. “It’s a queer shop. It’s a safe space for everyone.”
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On Friday the 13th, I wandered the streets of New York’s Lower East Side, searching for a tattoo shop. My destination was Cherry Bomb Studio, a tattoo parlour whose doors would remain open unusually late into the night. Cherry Bomb was celebrating Friday the 13th with one of the tattoo world’s biggest traditions: an all-day marathon of affordable work for anyone with a few extra dollars, time to wait in line, and the boldness to permanently memorialise our unluckiest date.
Now in its 40th year, the tradition comes with a few rules: you can’t make an appointment (walk-ins only), and you can’t request custom designs. The special price was originally a symbolic $13 (plus a seven-dollar tip), but that rate has gone slightly up at many parlours due to inflation, another US tradition. “Tattoos have become the American symbol for a day that is otherwise associated with bad omens,” said USA Today. I was trying to find out why.
Cherry Bomb already had a line of clients spilling out onto Edlridge Street when I arrived. As much a social event as it is a sale (Cherry Bomb brought in a cotton candy machine for the occasion), I snaked my way inside, nudging through excited customers idling by a Tarot card reader, flicking cigarettes smudged with black lipstick. Inside, I struck up a conversation with Cole, 27, from across the river. Cole was getting a tattoo of a pigeon. “I think they’re an unappreciated bird,” was his reasoning.
Cherry Bomb, like most shops that night, had designed a special flash sheet. Artwork often features the numeral “13”, alongside other symbols of bad luck, such as black cats and ladders. Other times, however, the 13th is just an opportunity for artists to offer work that on a typical day doesn’t see much love. As Cole said of the bird now immortalised on his body, pigeons “get a lot of hate, but they’re interesting.”
At Cherry Bomb, some 30 years later, I approached Ro Batalle, the studio’s owner. In between coordinating artists and managing a growing crowd of walk-ins, Batalle explains how the fast-paced demands of the night influence the artwork. “The strategy changes,” they say. “You don’t want to have perfect circles, for example, because we’re going for speed here, and you want to have a lot of breaks, so you can have a rest of the needle.”
Batalle says it’s “hard” doing so many clients in one night, “but then there’s something to getting back to basics and just doing repeat designs over and over.” Veterans tattooed from head to toe use the occasion to “fill in” remaining uncovered spots, while the value and novelty of the celebration gives nervous neophytes the push they need to walk through the door.
Before I left Cherry Bomb, exhausted and ready for Saturday the 14th, I noticed a young woman with a conspicuously large, bright suitcase. Her name was Dan. The suitcase? Dan had just landed from San Jose. She had no plans to get a tattoo on her trip, let alone before even dropping off her luggage. “My baby cousins brought me,” she said. “I really didn’t expect to visit. Everything is just unexpected.” Dan showed me her new tattoo: a pair of stars (representing those twin cousins). The way she viewed it, the randomness of her decision didn’t diminish their meaning. If anything, randomness was the meaning. “It’s very special to find something to do on Friday the 13th that you don’t normally do, when the stars align,” she said. “I don’t think it’s unlucky. It’s what you make of it.”
It’s not what you get; it’s the fact that you were bold enough to get it. The people I spoke with on Friday the 13th mostly agreed with Dan, and with those original sailors. They reject the date’s legacy of bad luck. “I think turning that idea on its head is kind of punk, and a little irreverent,” said Batalle. In fact, simply ending the night with a new tattoo is, for some, good fortune enough. As Kelsey told me before we parted: “It’s a secret club that we're all kind of a part of, and it's something to bond over with other people.”
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f you wanted your ears pierced before, say, 2018, there weren’t many options. You could either go to the Claire’s at your local mall, surrounded by small children trying on headbands, or a tattoo shop, where you just might end up next to a dude filling in his sleeve with a naked woman while you’re adorned with a diminutive diamond stud. The pickings were slim, but we made do in the name of jewelry.
While not everyone is into high end vibes seeping into the piercing scene, Ro Bataille, owner and tattoo artist at Cherry Bomb, a tattoo and piercing studio in New York, believes there’s room for the old and the new guard. (It's also worth noting that most newer shops offer only ear piercing, whereas a tattoo shop likely does body piercing as well.)
“It’s changing the landscape, for sure, but it's nice that people have more places to go now that are safe,” says Bataille.
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Nestled in the heart of New York City’s Lower East Side, Cherry Bomb Studio has made a name for itself as a beacon of inclusivity and artistic expression. As the first queer walk-in tattoo and piercing studio in the area, Cherry Bomb isn’t just a place to get inked—it’s a community hub where everyone, from seasoned body art enthusiasts to curious newcomers, is welcomed and celebrated.
Founded in 2021 by Ro Bataille, Cherry Bomb was born from a desire to create more than just a tattoo shop. Ro envisioned a space where people could share their stories and express themselves through body art in an environment that felt safe, affirming, and free of judgment.
While tattoos are the main draw, Cherry Bomb offers an extensive range of services that make it a full-spectrum body modification studio. Clients can choose from a variety of piercings, indulge in sparkling tooth gems, or opt for permanent makeup, including eyebrow microblading. The studio also provides more specialized services like scar camouflage, areola restoration, and scalp micropigmentation—each a testament to their commitment to helping individuals reclaim confidence and feel at home in their bodies.
One of Cherry Bomb’s defining features is its accessibility. The studio operates on a walk-in basis daily, ensuring that inspiration doesn’t have to wait. Open from 12 PM to 8 PM Monday through Thursday, and extending hours until 11 PM on weekends, Cherry Bomb remains an inviting space for both planned and spontaneous body art experiences. Walk-in hours end 30 minutes before closing, allowing artists enough time to consult and create with care.
Beyond its tattoo and piercing offerings, Cherry Bomb is an evolving cultural space, regularly hosting art shows and community events that celebrate queer creativity. The studio’s dedication to fostering a sense of belonging goes beyond ink—it’s about cultivating a space where people can connect, collaborate, and celebrate their identities. Feedback, collaboration with new artists, and ongoing education remain at the heart of Cherry Bomb’s ethos, ensuring that the space continues to grow and evolve with its community.
Clients consistently praise the studio for its welcoming atmosphere and professional approach. Many describe their experiences as transformative, highlighting the artists’ ability to bring personal visions to life while maintaining an environment that feels safe and affirming. One patron shared, “From the moment I walked in, I felt at ease. The artists took the time to understand my vision and brought it to life beyond my expectations.” Another noted, “Their attention to detail and commitment to safety made my piercing experience seamless and enjoyable.”
Located at 231 Eldridge Street, Cherry Bomb is easily accessible to both locals and visitors. While the studio has a portable wheelchair ramp to accommodate clients, the restroom is not wheelchair accessible, an important detail for those planning a visit.
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In a city as diverse and vibrant as New York, Cherry Bomb Studio shines as a testament to the power of inclusivity, artistry, and community.