A real price in seconds — at your rates
The client shows the spot and the design. InkTok measures it on their body and prices it the way you would. “How much?” answers itself.
Everything it does
The whole list, on one page
No scrolling story and nothing held back for later. If you are comparing this against something else, this is the page to have open.
Working out the price
The part that costs you an evening a week, done from your own rates.
Long pieces
A back piece is thirty hours, and nobody sits for thirty. Mark the parts that need several sittings and we find the dates.
Deposits
Taken by card when the booking is made, and deducted from the session price. Fewer empty chairs.
A cancellation policy that enforces itself
Set your window once. Cancel in time and the deposit is theirs back; cancel late or never turn up and it stays with you, marked as such. The booking screen says which it was, so you are not working it out from the dates months later.
Your prices
Six screens of it, all yours. Nothing here quotes from somebody else's average.
Your hourly rate
One number, yours, and everything else is built on it. Per artist in a studio, so a junior and a master do not quote the same piece at the same price. It is never shown to a client — only the price it produces.
It learns what you charge
Price a handful of real pieces the way you would in the shop, and your hourly rate, your hours-to-size curve and your volume discounts come out of the answers. No table to fill in and no guessing at somebody else's averages.
Priced by body part
Ribs are not a forearm. Every zone carries its own multiplier, set by you, and the calculator applies it without anybody having to remember.
Complexity, colour, cover-ups and scars
Fine line and full colour are different afternoons. Each surcharge is a percentage you set once, and a cover-up over an old piece or work across scar tissue is priced as the harder job it is.
Discounts that scale with the work
A full sleeve is not twelve small pieces at the small-piece rate. Set the steps once and large work quotes the way you would quote it over the counter.
Your own styles
The list a client picks from is yours — blackwork, neo-traditional, whatever you actually do — and each one can carry its own price.
Seeing it first
What a client needs before they will commit to anything.
They see it on their own arm — before they book
Clients drop the design onto a photo of their own body and move it until it sits right. Fewer “can you show me how it looks?” messages, more people who book.
A photo of a tattoo, turned back into a design
Half of what clients send is a piece already on somebody’s arm, badly lit, at an angle. There is nothing to measure in that. So it is redrawn flat, and from there it behaves like any other design.
Clients send photos you can use
The body-part and design steps each show what works and what does not, side by side — the whole part in frame, a clean drawing rather than a tattoo on someone's back — so the price is read off a picture worth reading.
Flash days
A priced sheet on a named day, each design claimed once. Sold and paid for before anyone walks in.
The diary
Filling it, protecting it, and refilling it when something falls through.
Two times in, a planned day out
Each artist sets when the day starts and when it stops, and every booking is fitted into it — sized to the tattoo, flush against the one before, with the buffer between. Prefer fixed sessions? Switch to slots and clients pick one of yours. A day that has had enough is marked full in one tap.
Cancellations that refill themselves
When a booking falls through, the first person on your waitlist who fits the freed slot hears about it — by email or text — and has half an hour on it before the next one is told. A slot tomorrow goes to everyone at once, because then filling the chair beats taking turns.
The reminder that stops the no-show
The evening before: when, where, how to get in, and the consent form if it is still unsigned. By email, and — if you want it read on the walk to work rather than at a desk — by text as well. You write none of them.
No-shows
A blacklist that recognises the phone or the email, and can insist on payment up front.
Guest spots
A week in another city takes over your calendar for those dates, runs on the host’s hours in their timezone, and prices in their money and their tax. Clients pick the city on your page.
Day full, in one tap
A small lock on every day of the calendar. Press it and clients can no longer book that day; what is already booked stays, and you can still add someone yourself.
One colour for each kind of day
Ordinary days are green, days with their own hours purple and flash days yellow — in your schedule, in your bookings and on the client’s calendar.
How soon, how far ahead
Set how many hours' notice a client has to give and how many weeks ahead they can book, and the calendar never offers anything outside it.
In the calendar you already carry
Two ways, both live: Google both directions, so what you put in your own calendar blocks the time here too, and a subscription link for Apple and anything else that reads one.
Your clients
Everyone who has written to you, and everything that goes back to them.
Regulars
Mark a client VIP and their rate follows them automatically, every booking, without you remembering.
Leads
Everyone who starts a booking leaves a name and a number, finished or not. Export the list when a week looks quiet.
Consent forms, signed on their phone
The form your insurer wants — over eighteen, no allergies, not drunk, told the aftercare — ticked and signed with a finger before they arrive. It stays on the booking with the time, the IP and the exact wording they agreed to, so a form signed last year still means what it said.
Aftercare
Your own instructions on your own page, sent after the session. Answers the same questions you answer every week.
Text messages, not just email
Every message your clients get can also go as a text, on the channel they actually open. Choose it per message — the reminder and the consent link by text, the rest by email alone — and it is included, with no per-message charge and no account of your own to set up.
Regulars, priced as regulars
A standing discount on the people who keep coming back, applied by the calculator without them having to ask and without you having to remember.
The ones you would rather not take
A quiet list. Someone on it is either turned away or quietly asked for a deposit before anything is held, and you choose which.
Your page
Your name, your work and your colours — not a listing on somebody else's site.
A page that is already finished
Nobody starts a studio wanting to build a website, and a half-built one costs work. This comes with the page: your work, your reviews, your links, and the booking on the same screen.
Then keep it, and put the calculator in it
If your site is doing its job there is no reason to move. One line puts the price estimate and the booking inside it, and the bookings still land in the same place.
There is nothing else like this, and we intend to keep it that way
Every part of this was asked for by somebody tattooing for a living — the calculator, the try-on, the consent forms, the chair limit. None of it came from a product meeting. Whether you work alone out of one room or run four artists and three chairs, if it cannot do something you do, that is the next thing we build.
Your own address
Book at your domain instead of ours, with the certificate handled. Or stay on ours — it works either way, and nothing about the page changes.
The money
What came in, what it cost, and what is owed to whom.
What is actually happening
What was booked, what was quoted, what turned up and what it earned, per artist and per month.
Payroll for a studio, worked out Studio
Every artist on their own arrangement: a percentage, a chair rent, or a rate that improves once the month gets busy. The month adds itself up, you press paid, and your accountant gets a CSV. Artists see their own line and nobody else’s.
Materials, counted
What a session costs you in ink, needles and film. In a studio it comes off the artist’s side of the split; on your own it is simply the difference between what came in and what you kept.
Notifications on your phone
A new booking wakes your phone, not your inbox. Nothing waits until you next open a laptop.
A team
For when there is more than one chair.
Artists Studio
Each artist gets their own login and diary, and sets their own prices — body parts, styles, minimum — so every quote is that artist’s. Commission is worked out for you.
Every artist sets their own prices Studio
In a studio each artist calibrates on their own reference pieces and sets their own body parts, styles, colour and cover-up surcharges and minimum. The studio keeps the frame — deposits, rules, a shop minimum nobody goes under — and a client who picks an artist sees that artist's quote.
“Any artist”, sorted for you Studio
A client who doesn’t mind who does it sees the first free time among artists who work in that style, and the booking goes to whoever has the lightest month — at that artist’s own price.
A profile for every artist Studio
Photo, styles, links and their own portfolio on your studio page. Artists upload their work themselves.
It knows how many chairs you have Studio
Four artists and three chairs means three tattoos at once, whatever the diaries say. Nothing gets booked past the room, and the studio day shows every chair at once so you can see the crush before it happens.
All of it is in the trial. Nothing here is an upgrade.