Conspiracy Theory Tattoo is a Denver-based, welcoming tattoo shop owned by Molly Tsunami and her husband, Jim Anderson. The two opened the shop in October 2021, building their nest inside a late-1800s Victorian home turned artistic co-op complete with an oddities shop, The Learned Lemur. While no happy haunts, ghouls or demons possess the space, the airy environment glows with supportive souls, kindred artistry and expressive freedom. It’s a place that “feels like home,” coined Tsunami, for both clients and themselves.
Despite being open for less than four years, Conspiracy Theory Tattoo has already etched its ink into Denver’s skin, winning Westword’s “Best Tattoo Shop” this year. That’s no small feat in a city where the gates guarding tattoo culture stretch for miles, cast in iron bars forged by decades of tradition, lineage and ego.
Norman Collins, better known as “Sailor Jerry,” was a legendary proponent of that “earn your stripes” mentality. He notoriously turned away drunkards or those who didn’t pass the vibe check, deeming them unworthy of wearing his revolutionized American Traditional style. His was a look that bridged cultures, blending Japanese-style color theory and composition and American-style bold lines with patriotic imagery.
Collins, a United States Navy veteran himself, was particularly fond of the male soldiers and sailors who swarmed his Honolulu shop. Like him, they had rightfully served their time fighting for the United States and sought symbolic emblems representative of their duty. Some chose vivacious pin-up girls, others opted for heartwarming “Mom” tattoos, while many selected fiercer designs like tigers or wolves.
Women, too, were occasionally permitted their own set of inked art, but “feminine” constraints kept it tightly bound. Acceptable designs typically included hearts, butterflies and small birds of prey, almost always placed in discreet locations like the ankle or upper thigh. After all, one wouldn’t want to tarnish the “good girl” reputation, or worse, be lumped in with the more heavily tattooed women performing in circuses at the time.
Those rules on tattooing and women didn’t simply vanish after the Sailor Jerry days. They just morphed into other forms. Tsunami experienced this firsthand when she entered the tattoo scene 16 years ago for her apprenticeship. She became the emblazoned bird of prey herself, while men took their ferocious wolf symbols to primal extremes, marking their bodies with razor-edged teeth and talon-like nails.
Those wolves perpetrated more than a fair share of verbal and physical abuse in Tsunami’s early shops. She had hoped to spread her wings towards artistic growth and longed to connect with fellow creatives at nearby nests. But the hazing of Tsunami’s apprenticeship was fierce. The wolves shot callously back, sometimes firing literal airsoft pellets that punctured her skin, punishing her efforts for getting too close to the sun. Other apprentices experienced similar harmful fates, yet through different means. One, after making a single mistake, was assaulted with a rubber gardening hose. These were places with no protection for the aspiring Icarus.
Midnight brought little solace, too, when Tsunami was thrown into the fire, tasked as being the apprentice for an elusive tattoo house party where the wolves’ howls echoed louder than the rest.
Some artists tattooed their subjects while grasping a greased-out hamburger in their paws, ruthlessly dropping crumbs onto raw, freshly inked skin. Others rolled on their backs, belly-side up, laughing cacophonously at visions only they could see. Tsunami would chrip out against this vandalization of the art, but the wolves growled, “You’re not gonna make it in tattooing if you can’t handle this sort of stuff,” quieting her songs of concern and sorrow. She yearned to fly. But at these sinful soirees, the pack skulked, their unpitying gaze burned more brightly in the dim light.
That cigarette-ash-laden scene remained engraved in Tsunami’s nostrils, with questionable “patriotic” optics stinging her eyes. Tsunami sincerely believed in honoring tattoo culture and its traditions, but even with the barrage of contrarian yelps, she knew risking safety was a clear bastardization of the sacred code.
Tsunami’s first real mentor, Dave Allen, who now inks at Preying Mantis Tattoo, “was a champion,” Tsunami recalled. He acted as her North Star, illuminating her flight path towards higher altitudes, subsequently reinforcing her other long-held belief in inclusivity. She knew the power of diversity and its place in allowing for new perspectives and horizons to be explored.
Anderson also endured his own share of trauma behind those bars. Both still flew with wings punctured from their past. This shaped Tsunami in particular. She was determined to ensure, “it would never happen again to another person,” she shared. The resilient light sieving through those holes, paired with a supportive framework, gave Tsunami and Anderson the lift they needed to veer off the beaten path and into a different realm.
They envisioned a space where individuals of any gender identity and background could chart their course of personal expression within a safe environment. Swallows framed by orchids mingled with vibrant-fire breathing dragons, and brushed up against experimental textures like the growing glitter tattoo tread, making it impossible to tell where one style ends and another begins.
So, in 2021, Tsunami and Anderson opened Conspiracy Theory Tattoo. It’s a sanctuary home to a diverse flock of artists and clients where lions, tigers and even bears, oh my, flourish freely and unapologetically. Artists here specialize in all styles, ranging from American Traditional to cartoonism and realism.
Tsunami herself is fond of Neo-Art Nouveau styles, drawing inspiration from the 1920s Art Nouveau movement, fused with Traditional Japanese roots. Her work leans towards the ever-so realistic realm, featuring repeating patterns and painted in lower-contrast shades touched by bold color. Line weights range from thick to fine, and Tsunami presses her needle with particular strength when working with Neo-American Traditional styles.
While gender representation and acceptance have grown since the Sailor Jerry era, pockets of resistance still staunchly remain. The rise of self-taught tattooing has boomed alongside social media’s expansion, placing knowledge at everyone’s fingertips. Tsunami acknowledges the benefit of easily accessible information but notes the clear safety concerns and ethical questions it raises. Ultimately, tattooing isn’t for everyone, regardless of their art experience. And Tsunami urges aspiring artists to seek out mentors and apprenticeships that best fit their needs and styles.
Thankfully, Conspiracy Theory Tattoo caters to all by exploring every creative possibility with a team intentionally hired from diverse backgrounds. Ensuring not only minimal stylistic overlap, but also offering a variety of unique personalities both in and out of the studio.
Some, including Tsunami herself, participate in monthly side shows hosted by Learned Lemur in the nearby carriage house, located towards the back of their shared building. From walking on glass to fire performances and even “mental flossing” with IV tubes, these events invite all who dare to witness uncharted expressiveness.
Conspiracy Theory Tattoo proudly showcases its diverse work at art markets throughout the year, offering prints for purchase when committing to a permanent piece feels too heavy a toll. Learned Lemur supports this effort by hosting art shows in partnership with the shop, displaying their newest taxidermy finds and obscurities alike. The shop also collaborates closely with Denver-based charities such as L.O.L.A’s Dog Rescue, The Center, and soon, a local raptor rescue.
Despite the bruises from both Tsunami and Anderson’s past, Conspiracy Theory Tattoo, along with shops like Ginkgo Tree Tattoo in Fort Collins and Nest Art Collective in Wheat Ridge, continue to flip the brutalistic tattooing script. Their stories, like ink on the ever-evolving human canvas, pass the needle forward to a future prosperous with reinvigoration and resilience.
Conspiracy Theory Tattoo is an inclusive tattoo shop located at 2220 E Colfax Suite 200, Denver. They are open Monday – Sunday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m..