Hannah Chiccone shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Hannah, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What is a normal day like for you right now?
My day starts with an attempted cuddle with my dog, Cannoli—if she allows it, she’s a Gemini—before the day’s tasks take over. I head downstairs, turn on my salt lamp, and try to manifest a quiet moment with my tea — caffeine-free or I’ll shake like a leaf. I’m a big believer in multitasking my me-time, so I’ll usually catch up on reality TV in the shower. I have a waterproof phone mount and a speaker in there—highly recommend; it’s my version of a morning briefing. After a skincare routine under my daylight lamp (IYKYK) I’m ready to face the world (open my phone). On the way out of the house, I’ll grab the lunch I may or may not actually remember to eat, my emotional support water bottle, my 47 bags in tow, and head to work. On the drive, I usually call a friend to either yap or be yapped at to get my social battery charged.
Opening the [tattoo] shop is all about setting the vibe. The hardest part of my morning is picking the playlist. Once the music is right and the incense is lit, I’m finalizing drawings and checking in with my apprentice. I’m lucky that The Jade Collective can run itself, as we are appointment based, so there are limited surprises throughout the workday. My schedule is a juggle; in between clients, I’m meeting with my manager and assistant to coordinate logistics for my mobile business, The Tiger’s Eye Collective, and my life.
The drive home is my time to decompress with an audiobook. I’m lucky that my boyfriend usually has dinner started, so we get to sit down and catch up. Before bed, I do my rituals: stretching, reading, and prepping the next day’s designs. I’ve realized that I will always have 30+ unread text messages and I might forget to hydrate and/or eat, and I’ve had to learn that that just has to be okay enough for me. I close the mental tabs, and we do it all again tomorrow.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am Hannah Chiccone, a tattoo artist and business owner based in Baltimore, where I’ve spent almost the last decade working to transform the body adornment experience. I took a leap from a corporate marketing career to build The Jade Collective, my brick-and-mortar parlor. My goal has always been to create a space where getting a tattoo feels less like a rite of passage and more like a curated act of self-care. I wanted to empower women in the industry who were looking for a collaborative middle ground between working for themselves and being tied to a traditional-type tattoo shop environment and business model. Similarly, we wanted to offer a welcoming place for clients, intended to feel like a hangout with friends, where we specialize in fine-line tattooing. We offer a full range of services, including lashes, permanent cosmetics, and piercings, making us a true one-stop shop for body adornment.
What truly defines our mission is the belief that body art is a vehicle for connection rather than just a transaction. My mobile business, The Tiger’s Eye Collective, allows us to step outside the studio walls and bring that elevated experience directly to the community. By collaborating with independent, primarily female artists and partnering with local brands, we’ve been able to reimagine how and where people encounter body art. We love proving that professional, high-standard tattooing can fit seamlessly into lifestyle events and personal celebrations, making the process feel accessible and relaxed.
Right now, I am in a phase of massive growth and evolution. I’m currently balancing the running of my two existing businesses, all while mentoring the next generation of artists through our apprenticeship program. Whether it’s through a private session at Jade or a collaborative event with Tiger’s Eye, I’m dedicated to making body art accessible, meaningful, and genuinely fun for everyone involved.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who taught you the most about work?
I’d have to say I learned the most from a combination of my early marketing career, the sheer, unglazed reality of my first few years as a business owner and my friends who have been with me every step of the way. My time in the corporate world taught me the how of business—systems, branding, and the importance of a clear message—but it didn’t teach me the soul of it. I learned the most about the actual weight of work when I transitioned into the beauty industry and had to hustle 60 hours a week to build a book. That period taught me that work isn’t just about the hours you put in; it’s about the value you provide to the person sitting in your chair.
Beyond the technical side, I’ve learned the most from my core group of girlfriends. These women are all high-level experts in their respective fields—ranging from a multi-salon owner and a wellness studio founder to a pharmaceutical rep, a vintage reseller, and even a dentist. They have essentially become my unofficial board of directors. They’ve taught me how to advocate for myself and navigate the difficult business decisions that come with rapid growth. Whether they are walking through a potential new studio space with me, helping me crunch numbers on a budget, or offering a perfect balance of tough love and genuine praise, they’ve shown me that being a boss doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.
Lastly, I have to give credit to the hard days where I had to skip my own paycheck to make sure the business stayed afloat. Those moments were my most honest teachers. They stripped away the ballsy, naive perspective I had when I first started and replaced it with a deep respect for the responsibility of entrepreneurship. It taught me that my work isn’t just about my own art anymore; it’s about building a stable, long-term environment where the collective as a whole can actually thrive and survive in this industry. That kind of big-picture building is a much more rewarding kind of labor.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
There were definitely moments, especially as the businesses started to scale, where the weight of it all felt completely paralyzing. I went from the security of a marketing job to the total uncertainty of a commission-based paycheck. It took two years finally build a solid book of clients and feel comfortable enough to make the move to work for myself. As I transitioned from being an individual artist making all of the money to a business owner with a team, the stakes changed. There have been plenty of mornings where I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed because the stress of what I had built felt like it was crushing me.
The almost giving up feeling usually hit when I had to face the hardest parts of being a boss—the things you tend to ignore when you’re dreaming up a studio. I’ve had to fire people, demote people, and say no to things that I really wanted to say yes to. It’s incredibly isolating to make those calls, and there were times when I wondered if I was cut out for the conflict that comes with protecting a brand. I had to learn that being a leader isn’t always about being the cool or liked person in the room; it’s about being the one who makes the difficult, often unpopular decisions to keep the doors open.
I think I stayed in it because I realized that those moments of total overwhelm were actually just growing pains. I’ve had to accept that I’m not always going to be put together and that running multiple businesses is inherently messy. When I look at the artists I work alongside and the clients who tell me our shop is the only place they’ve ever felt comfortable getting tattooed, the giving up option just disappears. I’ve learned to sit with the stress, have the hard conversations, and just keep moving forward—even on the days when the 30+ unread texts feel like too much to handle.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
I think the public version of me is absolutely real, but it’s definitely the version of me with a fully charged battery. People often tell me they’re inspired by my accomplishments or that my life looks incredibly cool. I don’t disagree—I’ve worked hard to build a life and a brand I’m proud of. After years in the hospitality and service industries, I’ve learned how to turn on the “Hannah Show” from beginning to end while I’m at the shop; there are no bad days when a client is in my chair. But because I give so much energy to that public-facing role, people don’t always see that my social and mental batteries actually run out much quicker than they’d expect.
Similarly, what you see on social media isn’t an act, but it is a highlight reel of a very busy life. Like most people, I just show the parts of me that are energized and inspired. It’s imperative that my clients feel like they know me before they ever step foot in the shop; I want them to work with me because they feel seen and comfortable knowing we share the same world views, watch the same shows, or read the same books. I put honest and vulnerable parts of myself out there for that reason. I may have some cool businesses and some sick old furniture, but I’m also a person struggling to keep all the mental tabs open. The rest of the time, I’m just trying to balance my businesses and social life, telling myself that having 30+ unread text messages is just part of the price I pay for the life I’ve built.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: If you knew you had 10 years left, what would you stop doing immediately?
If I knew I only had ten years left, I would stop working and delete social media immediately. That might sound blunt, but it’s the honest truth. We live in a world where comparison is the thief of joy, and social media is the primary engine for that. Even when you’re successful, the constant noise of what everyone else is doing can be exhausting. If my time were limited, I would choose to protect my peace and my presence above everything else. I would stop trading my energy for the “Hannah Show” and finally just be still.
This doesn’t come from a place of being ungrateful for my career—I’ve spent a decade building a life and a brand that I’m incredibly proud of. But I’m currently in a season of restructuring my entire business model specifically to prioritize longevity and sustainability. If the clock were ticking, I would want to step into the “freedom” phase of that plan right now. I’d want to see the ecosystem I’ve built thrive so that I could stop trading my physical health for a checklist.
Ultimately, those ten years would be for the person behind the brand. I would spend that time traveling the world with my boyfriend (better be a husband in those 10 years), being fully present with my friends, my family and myself. I’ve spent years building a world for other people to enjoy; if I only had ten years left, I’d finally take the time to inhabit it myself with the people I love most.
Contact Info:
- Website: thejadecollective.com; tigerseyecollective.com
- Instagram: @hashtagxhannah @thejade.collective @tigerseye.collective
