Crescent City Tattoos is home to one of the most dedicated body piercers that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.
Twenty-year-old New Orleans native Mitchell Meinecke, or, as he calls himself, “Sir Cornbread of the Needle,” has been piercing since he dropped out of high school his junior year to pursue it as a serious career, he said.
Cornbread dove into his work and treated it as more than just a job.
He’s patient, willing to answer questions and a genuinely nice guy.
One of the first questions that came to mind when I met him is: why is he called Cornbread?
“They say I look like a Cornbread,” Meinecke said. “That’s about all there is to it. I think it’s the red hair. Those were my friend Eric’s exact words. I apprenticed under Eric for piercing for an entire year, and he said ‘You look like a Cornbread.'”
It wasn’t easy to get work at Crescent City Tattoos, but he badgered owner Tiger Mike Schroeder until he agreed to let Cornbread begin an apprenticeship at the shop.
He began doing unpaid grunt work, and now, two years later, he works full time at the shop.
Cornbread has already managed to amass 28 tattoos, 12 piercings.
He is constantly piercing something new as an extremely active member of the piercing/suspension group Atone Pain Tribe, whom you may have seen being pulled about by hooks in front of the stage at the House of Shock.
“I pierce myself often for performances,” Meinecke said. “I run skewers through my neck and my face live, and put hooks in my neck and my face and hang things from them … like cinder blocks, and baby dolls. When I get pierced, it’s a rush.”
Meinecke met the guys from Atone during his first year as an apprentice at Crescent City Tattoos, and he ended up working with them.
He’s been with the Tribe for almost a year now.
He got his first hooks in early January and began doing shows a week later.
“With suspension, there’s the rush of the crowd that’s added,” he said. “Even if I’m not suspended – even if I’m just piercing myself in my neck, which is my favorite thing to do. I pierce my neck in front of a hundred, two hundred, three hundred people. That’s a rush right there. With suspension, once your feet leave the ground, your mind leaves your body. Everything that you thought was real isn’t, and it’s nothing but you and yourself, flying. It’s a high.”
But, he said, “It’s all very safe and sanitary.”
The guys make sure that all equipment is properly cleaned and sterilized.
They take great care with what they do.
The next thing I wondered is how skin doesn’t rip while the hooks bear the weight of an entire body.
According to Cornbread, “It’s a lot thicker skin than you think. It’s very resilient… it’s all about weight distribution. … I like big, thick hooks, because they’ll support you better.”
Fortunately for me, Cornbread did a live piercing demonstration right there.
I watched him shove two hooks through his upper lip and two through the bottom, then pull them back and hold them with thread.
He looked like something out of Hellraiser.
It was crazy to see and almost painful to watch, but even more painful for him I’m sure.
We had to hold off the interview and pictures for a while.
As soon as Meinecke removed the hooks, he began bleeding all over the place.
Talk about suffering for your art.
As for his future, Cornbread plans to continue on with his career as a body piercer.
He hopes to open his own shop one day, but for now you can catch him working at Crescent City Tattoos (4800 Magazine St.) every Sunday and Monday from noon to 1:30 a.m., and Tuesdays after 8 p.m.
You can also check out the Atone Pain Tribe’s live suspension show Friday Nov. 21 at the Howlin’ Wolf.
Cornbread is an active member of the piercing/suspension group Atone Pain Tribe. Atone Pain Tribe performs at the House of Shock. (Ashley Sieffert)
Cornbread shows off some of his 28 tattoos. He has been piercing since he dropped out of high school his junior year to pursue it as a serious career. (Ashley Sieffert)
