Chronologically this article should have preceded the previous one because Gauntlet had published several issues of its piercing magazine before the opening of the store. The reason for the slight detour will be explained a little later.

When I first started Gauntlet, publishing a piercing magazine couldn’t have been further from my mind. But it quickly presented itself as a very natural aspect of the work I was doing. As piercing enthusiasts began hearing about Gauntlet, a typical type of correspondence started to arrive in the mail on a regular basis.

Up to that time people who were into piercing were pretty much on their own. If they wanted a piercing they had to figure out how to do it themselves or get a sympathetic friend to assist them. There was no readily available resource for information on piercing technique or for the tools and materials to do it. In general the results were less than satisfactory. Piercing enthusiasts were also widely scattered all over the globe and for the most part very closeted.

Consequently many of the letters I received contained the same two questions: First, how do I pierce my or my girl/boyfriend’s insert name of piercing here? Second, how do I go about meeting other people into the scene? Needless to say answering these questions repeatedly made it quickly apparent that there had to be an easier, more professional way to meet the demand. The obvious solution was a magazine. Since there was clearly a growing interest in piercing, why not?

My artistic background aside, I had no knowledge or experience along this line. Perhaps if I had, I might have thought twice about pursuing the matter, but like a rushing fool I began making plans and gathering the information and resources I needed.

Early in the days of the T&P group, someone had suggested we call ourselves “Piercing Fans International.” The name never stuck in no small part because the members were pretty much people who lived in the Los Angeles area. However, when I was trying to think of a name for the magazine I remembered the suggestion. Finding enough material to put out a monthly would have been a major challenge, but a quarterly seemed within the realm of possibility. So the magazine quite naturally became Piercing Fans International Quarterly, or PFIQ for short.

Doug was an avid photographer, especially where piercing was concerned. Although he had a fine camera and some basic skill in using it, his philosophy was that if you took enough photos, some of them were bound to turn out. Consequently he spared no opportunity to take lots of pictures of piercings and pierced people whenever he had a chance. I had free access to these and figured that they would provide an ongoing source of material for the magazine.

Under Doug’s influence I also went out and bought a good camera and spent some time learning how to use it. After all, Doug wasn’t always around when a photo opportunity presented itself.

A regular contributor to the magazine was a local gay artist who went by the name of Bud. His work occupied thirteen of the first fourteen covers and after we went to color appeared regularly inside. I had seen his work in the gay S/M magazine Drummer. How we actually met and connected, I’ve forgotten. I do remember that he did some tattoo designs for some clients of Cliff Raven, a T&P group regular. Bud’s imaginative pen and ink drawings show the strong influence of both comic and early fantasy and sci-fi art.

Doug’s holiday card circa 1977.

By the middle of 1978 I was able to generate enough cash flow to be able to seriously consider looking for a suitable location. Several factors were essential. Of course the rent had to be something reasonable. West Hollywood seemed like an excellent choice. Since the majority of my clients were gay men, it seemed logical to be in the heart of the gay ghetto.

I briefly considered the Silver Lake area because a lot of leathermen lived in that neighborhood. There were also a number of leather bars. But unfortunately it lay within the jurisdiction of the rabidly homophobic Rampart Division of the LAPD under an equally homophobic police chief, Ed Davis. Notorious for his raids on the area’s gay bars, Davis made headlines and enemies on the city counsel when he squandered a sizable chunk of the police budget marshalling a large force, including helicopters, to raid one of the leather bars that was having a slave auction to raise money for charity. He reasoned they were breaking the law because slavery is illegal. Were I to locate in Silver Lake, how long, I wondered, might it take for my fledgling business to fall victim to some cop with an agenda? At least West Hollywood had a sheriff’s department which seemed to get along well with the area’s residents and business owners. Because I hated driving in LA, I was perfectly happy to find something within walking distance of home.

West Hollywood in those days before it became an anti-business incorporated city was a genial community on the Eastern edge of Beverly Hills. Then, as now, the area was liberally dotted with showrooms catering to the interior design trade.

As fall approached, fortune smiled on me. On the corner of the main thoroughfare (Santa Monica Boulevard and Huntley Drive), about three and a half blocks from home, I saw a ‘For Lease’ sign. The space was only about eight hundred square feet, but the rent was within my budget and it provided everything I needed at the time.

The building owner was a crotchety, middle-aged, lush named Sid. At one time he’d had a design related business on the premises, but had reached retirement age and wanted to let his property be his source of income. At the time there were three other businesses in the building. If memory serves me correctly, there was a gay-owned vintage clothing store on the corner, a pro-dom on the second floor, and, briefly, a gay sex club run by the landlord in the basement. It was certainly a colorful location for my business.

I signed the lease in September and began the process of decorating and furnishing. Although he was frequently difficult, Sid and I got along well through the years, and Gauntlet had a presence in his building until its demise in 1998. Sid died a year or so before Gauntlet.

Before starting Gauntlet I had had many years of training and experience related to the design field. I’d studied three years at the New York School of Interior Design, worked for several designers, done picture framing, and worked in a paint and wallpaper store. When it came time to decorate my own business, I was ready.

By 1978 I had pretty well established purple as the color for body piercing. This had sprung directly from another of those products of gay creativity, the bandana or hanky code.

According to my research, some trace of the hanky code dates back to Gold Rush days, when dancers in all-male mining town saloons would divvy up into “fellers” and “gals,” those taking the women’s parts wearing identifying kerchiefs wrapped around their arms. But in the hands of a few gay men, it manifested into a unique cultural phenomenon that is still with us today.

“The hanky color code originated in the early 1970s primarily to distinguish specific sexual interests when the original SM (or at least DS)-orientated leather scene was enlarging—and clothing alone didn't reveal esoteric sexual interests. The first published hanky code was done by Ron Ernst who drew one up in collaboration with Alan Selby (the original Mr S) for their San Francisco store Leather N Things; this code was published in the Bay Area Reporter in 1972.”

– Chicago Leather Club

The color of the bandana and the pocket in which it was worn signaled one’s particular sexual interest. Worn in the left back pocket it meant you were a top or active participant; on the right, a bottom or passive partner. Over the years the list of color codes became quite long. Some have quipped that you need a color chart to decode all the subtle differences of hue and shade. In the early days the list was fairly short. Red meant you were into fist fucking, a particularly popular sport from the mid 70s until the advent of AIDS ten years later. Dark blue indicated an interest in fucking, light blue a taste for cocksucking. Black meant S/M; gray, bondage. Yellow and brown are self explanatory (more).

Drummer, a magazine for gay men into S/M that had begun about the same time as Gauntlet had published an article listing the common hanky code colors. I reasoned that piercing fans ought to have a color of their own. But what color? I didn’t have to look too far for inspiration — purple, the color associated with Jupiter, the planet associated in astrology with prosperity and good fortune; purple, the color draping Catholic and Anglican churches during Holy Week when they commemorate the day Jesus got pierced. It seemed ideal to me, and so I fired off a letter to the editor of Drummer decreeing purple as the official color for people into piercing. My letter was published, and in time, by continually reinforcing the message, it stuck.

Quite naturally purple had to be a significant element in my color scheme. While purple is quite common today in fashion and design, in 1978 it was not a particularly popular color. This presented me with a number of challenges from the start.

The business owner who’d previously occupied the store had put up a canvas awning. My original intent was to have a new awning made from purple canvas to fit the existing frame. On this would be painted the business name. Unfortunately there was no purple canvas to be had. Rather than go with another color I finally decided to have the existing awning painted and lettered instead.

The exterior of the store with its purple awning

As for decorating the interior, some friends and T&P group members thought the motif should be “early dungeon” — dark with lots of black leather and chains. While certainly sexy for some, for lots of people this would be too intimidating. It might also create an impression of sleeze and a possibly unsanitary environment. For most people getting pierced is scary enough, and less edgy surroundings can help put them at ease. I envisioned a day when piercing would become popular with more than just gay S/M enthusiasts. I wanted a look that would be inviting to anyone who walked into the store.

A stylish wallpaper, something in which purple was a major element, would certainly be a good starting place. From working in a paint and wallpaper store I was familiar with many of the wallpaper designers and what they had to offer. So I got dressed up and headed for the newly opened Design Center to play interior designer.

Finding what I wanted proved to be a bigger challenge than I had anticipated. There was almost nothing in which purple was a significant keynote. While some companies will custom color a run of paper for a design job, it’s expensive and reasonable only for a large job. I only needed a few rolls of wallpaper.

What I finally settled on was beautiful, if a little over the top. It was a foil paper with an art nouveau motif of giant peacock feathers in shades of gold, orange, rose, and russet red with purple accents. The effect was quite dramatic. Some friends said it looked like a bordello. Others thought it was a little too gay. But once applied to the walls, with the trim and ceiling painted in a complementary purple, everyone had to admit the place looked elegant.

Left: The front counter. The wallpaper was a real eyecatcher.

Right: Gordon, one of my first office assistants, at work in the newly opened store.

I really would have liked to have had purple carpet, but that was not to happen for several years. Until then we made do with the sandy beige carpet that covered the floor when I took occupancy. At one point a carpet dyeing service was called in to dye the carpet purple, but after they did a small, inconspicuous test area, the idea was scrapped. The best they were able to come up with was a sickly lavender which was not acceptable.

At my desk. Notice the jewelry making area directly behind me.
The vertical blinds could be closed to provide privacy when I was piercing.

The back half of the store was to serve double duty. There was to be an area where I would make jewelry and another screened off area where I would do the piercing. The back wall was covered with a mottled silver and white wallpaper. The remaining walls were painted white. Good lighting was important, and the white gave the area a clean reassuring feel.

Making jewelry

As the decorating proceeded, plans for the grand opening were taking shape simultaneously. I designed invitations and had them printed. Fakir graciously provided a photo of his enlarged nipple piercing which appeared on the front. Well over a hundred invitations were sent out to enthusiasts all over the world.

The grand opening invitation. Fakir Musafar provided the photo of his nipple.

The grand opening was scheduled for November 17, Gauntlet’s third anniversary. There was a whirlwind of activity in preparation. Refreshments had to be purchased, champagne iced, everything put in order. A local photographer named Charlie Airwaves was hired to take photographs. It was one of the biggest days of my life.

Guests began arriving around eight o’clock. My lover Eric and Doug were on hand to help me welcome them. Doug was in his element. For him this was the manifestation of a long-held dream.

Left: Doug holding forth with members of the T&P group.
Right: My lover Eric chatting with Alayne, my bookkeeper.
(Both photos by Charlie Airwaves)

Throughout the evening over a hundred people attended the festivities. It was a historical event. I wonder if that many piercing enthusiasts had ever congregated in one location at the same time before. Among the many guests were my pal Rod, and Tom the librarian who had been so fatefully instrumental in bringing it all into being.

Among the guests was Tom the librarian (right facing forward)
who was responsible for bringing Doug and me together.
(Photo by Charlie Airwaves)

Members of the T&P group were out in force, among them Bud who would become known to the piercing world as Viking Navaro. From Orange County, pro-dom Mistress Antoinette showed up and was photographed with both Doug and I.

L-R:
1. Members of the T&P group in conversation (photo by Charlie Airwaves).
2. Decked out in Gauntlet-made septum tusks, Bud, AKA Viking Navaro,
converses with fellow enthusiasts (photo by Charlie Airwaves).
3. Doug caught in mid-yawn or mid-sentence with pro-dom Mistress Antoinette.
4. Mistress Antoinette and I catching a photo op.

So the opening night of the first store in the world devoted exclusively to body piercing came to an end. It was an event I will never forget. Who would have dreamed that in less than three decades there would be thousands of piercing establishments around the world following in its footsteps?

Next: The World’s First Piercing Magazine

Jim Ward is is one of the cofounders of body piercing as a public phenomena in his role both as owner of the original piercing studio Gauntlet and the original body modification magazine PFIQ, both long before BME staff had even entered highschool. He currently works as a designer in Calfornia where he lives with his partner. Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to publish full, edited, or shortened versions must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published July 31st, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Doug Malloy was what an acquaintance of mine called the “nom de kinque” of a wealthy Hollywood businessman named Richard Simonton. I was given to understand that Malloy was his mother’s maiden name. Being an Irish name, I can’t help thinking one of his forebears must have kissed the Blarney stone, for Doug had a remarkable flair for telling a story, and if it wasn’t exactly true, it didn’t particularly matter to him as long as the tale was a good one. Consequently I can’t guarantee the accuracy of everything that Doug told me about himself or about the history of piercing for that matter. But he told wonderful stories, and the fact that many of them persist despite a lack of any supporting evidence says much for his ability to capture our imaginations.

Doug in the Muzak offices in Hollywood.

I know little about his youth. From an early interview it appears he was born in Chicago and his family moved to the Seattle area when he was about three. By the time the Depression hit in 1929, he would have been in his early teens. I gathered the family wasn’t exactly affluent. Eventually he ended up in Southern California and his fortunes began to change. In the early 40s he struck a lucrative deal with Muzak, the ubiquitous background music company, which gave him control over the southwestern quarter of the country. It made him a very rich man.

Doug was quite interested in things metaphysical. He had been a personal friend of Ernest Holmes (1887–1960) author of The Science of Mind and the founder of the Religious Science movement. Thanks in no small part to Holmes’ influence, he was very much a believer in what became known as the “power of positive thinking.”

He also believed in reincarnation. According to Doug it explained not only things like prodigies, but also why some people became passionate about things like body piercing. This, he claimed, was his own case. He remembered a past life during which he had been a highly placed courtier in the entourage of Egyptian pharaoh Akhenaton.

Supposedly navel piercing was common amongst the aristocracy but forbidden to the lower classes. Doug claimed that the piercing could be seen in statuary, but try as I might I was unable to see it in the photos which he showed me. Within the last 50 years scientists have been able to construct an extremely clear and accurate picture of Egyptian life dating back several thousand years. To date I am unaware of any evidence having been discovered that would substantiate Doug’s claim.

Meanwhile back in ancient Egypt, Doug’s ancient self had a jealous rival at court who arranged to have him murdered. This left a karmic debt that the rival was attempting to repay in Doug’s present incarnation. From time to time the “Little Man” as he was called would appear and offer Doug advice and occasionally make predictions. I know of at least one that wasn’t accurate. Doug was told he’d live to the year 2000. Maybe by some antiquated calendar. At least by our calendar he was off by nearly 25 years.

Doug walking in his back yard at the edge of Toluca Lake.

Doug had an incredible home in the San Fernando Valley. Allegedly he had been told psychically to start construction on it even before he’d amassed the fortune necessary to complete it. It was in an area called Toluca Lake, named after the small body of water on the edge of which the house was being built. To the best of my knowledge there is no public access to the lake itself because it is completely surrounded by homes. Warner Brothers studio is a short distance to the East. Doug’s neighbors included Bob Hope, Olivia de Haviland, and Walt Disney’s brother Roy.

Left: Doug’s living room with its church-style organ,
Right: Doug, circa 1950, with a theater organ pipe in his hand.

From the street, the house itself was not particularly impressive. It appeared to be a modest, modern, one-level box. But inside it was a marvel. There was an atrium with a roof that could be retracted. The house had not one, but two pipe organs. One was a church-style organ in the living room. A narrow spiral staircase lead down to a small, 99-seat theater in which there was a fully restored Wurlitzer theater organ dating from the 1920’s. During the silent movie days it had graced a Paramount Studio sound stage. Doug’s interest in theater organs inspired him to found the American Theater Organ Society in 1955.

Doug in his theater projection booth.

The theater was equipped with state of the art projection and recording facilities. On several occasions a few other Tattoo & Piercing group members and I were invited to join some of Doug’s other friends for private showings in the theater.

Doug had been a very close friend of the comedy film star of silent movie fame, Harold Lloyd. When Harold died in 1971, Doug was the executor of his estate. This gave him access to all of Harold’s old films.

Another close friend was an old theater organist named Gaylord Carter. Quite naturally things came together for showings of several Harold Lloyd silent films accompanied live by Carter. These were truly once-in-a-lifetime experiences, and I’ll never forget them.

Doug’s interests were many and varied. In addition to organs, he had a passion for steamboats. In 1957 he and his family took a trip on the Mississippi riverboat the Delta Queen. On learning that the company was about to go under and this was to be its final season, Doug purchased controlling interest in the company in 1958. With his entrepreneurial skills he quickly turned it into a highly profitable enterprise.

I was not fortunate enough to have met Doug at the height of his prowess. A few years previously he had sustained brain damage from an event which nearly killed him. This had effected his ability to express himself. He confided in me that he had once been “an eloquent speaker” and was actually planing to pursue a political career when it all came to an abrupt end. The experience also forced him to take things easier and freed him to indulge his other great passion, body piercing.

During one of our many conversations Doug confided in me that had he been born at a later time he would probably have been gay. But he was born at a time when such a lifestyle could easily make anyone an outcast. He had ambitions, and he also believed that he and the members of his family had been together in a past incarnation. It was important that he provide the means for all of them to incarnate together once again.

Although not common today, Doug preferred to wear a large ring in his frenum piercing, sized to encircle his penis. He claimed that some men liked to sleep with their finger through the ring. Notice his Hafada.

Right: Doug’s Guiche.

Shortly before we met, Doug had written a short autobiography of his piercing exploits entitled The Adventures of a Piercing Freak (click the link to read it). He had subsequently sold the article to a publisher of fetish magazines who issued it in soft cover under the title The Art of Pierced Penises and Decorative Tattoos. Since body piercing was virtually unknown at the time, the publisher was hard pressed to find suitable images to accompany the text. Consequently the photographs used had nothing to do with the story.

Piercing Freak could hardly be described as great literature. It is told in a bold style with a certain hyper-masculine bravado. Although I think it largely failed, it was clearly intended as “one-handed reading” for a primarily gay fetish market. Fantastic as parts of it are, Doug insisted the story was true. It’s difficult to believe it was commonplace for divers to use Prince Albert rings to attach an external catheter or that there was actually a college organization of Jewish men advocating Dydoe piercings to restore sensation for circumcised males.

Doug did author, to some extent, promotional material for Gauntlet and articles for Gauntlet’s magazine Piercing Fans International Quarterly. The truth is I was the ghostwriter for these working from notes that he provided. One of the first promotional pieces we did was a flyer entitled “Body & Genital Piercing in Brief” (click the link to read it). It contained short histories and descriptions of a dozen piercings Doug considered “traditional.” I drew the illustrations to accompany them. The piercings included were:

• Nipple
• Navel
• Prince Albert
• Dydoe
• Ampallang
• Apadravya
• Frenum
• Hafada
• Guiche
• Foreskin
• Labia
• Clitoris

Of particular interest is the fact that, with the exception of the navel, all of these piercings have a largely sexual purpose. This reflects Doug’s primary interest in body piercing as a means of enhancing erotic sensation.

The impact the “Piercing Brief” has had is phenomenal. It was widely distributed and reprinted and contained many of the colorful myths that persist and, to some extent have been widely accepted as fact. There has never been any proof to substantiate, among other things that:

1. Roman Centurians wore nipple rings to which they attached short capes.
2. Navel piercings were a sign of royalty in ancient Egypt.
3. Beau Brummell and Prince Albert had their penises pierced.
4. Arab boys had the side of their scrotums pierced at puberty.
5. Male South Pacific islanders did the Guiche piercing.

The evidence on which Doug based his Roman Centurians claim was a Baroque statue he’d seen in Versailles. He showed me a photograph. I pointed out to him that Roman military men frequently wore metal breastplates sometimes sculpted to resemble a muscular male chest. The rings with cape attached were in the breastplate, not the man. Doug paused for a moment to ponder my observation, then replied, “Well, it makes a good story anyway.”

There are actually very few body piercings which have a documented history. The most extensively written about is the Ampallang, which at one time was fairly common in the areas surrounding the Indian Ocean. There is one sole reference to the Apadravya that I am aware of and it is in the Kama Sutra. Doug maintained that the Ampallang was horizontal through the head of the penis and the Apadravya vertical. Piercer and researcher Paul King of Cold Steel in San Francisco maintains that the piercings are in fact one and the same and that either one could be oriented in either direction. Whatever the facts, most piercing enthusiasts have accepted Doug’s designation.

Less extensively documented are foreskin piercings. We do know that they were performed as part of a procedure called infibulation. Usually it was done to male slaves as a means of enforcing chastity. Women with pierced labia can also be infibulated though the documentation of the procedure is scarce.

I sometimes wonder if people into piercing today have any deep appreciation of the tremendous impact Doug Malloy has had on their lives. Certainly he had predecessors and contemporaries equally as passionate about piercing as he, but what was it that made him the center from which the whole modern piercing movement sprang?

A happy Doug wearing an airbrushed T-shirt made for him by tattooist Cliff Raven. Over his right nipple are the letters DMMP which stood for “Doug Malloy, Master Piercer.” Over the left nipple is IIPPI. The letters stood for “If it protrudes, pierce it.”

I think there are several reasons. For one, no one before him had ever presented such a broad palette of piercing possibilities complete with history and lore. It didn’t matter that he probably made up a lot of it, if not the piercings themselves. He’d at least done enough experimentation on himself to have some sense of their feasibility. This made it possible for him to speak with a confidence that leant great credibility to what he said. It didn’t hurt that it was a message a lot of people were waiting to hear whether they realized it or not.

It was also fortunate that Doug didn’t pursue his passion completely in private. Although he was extremely secretive about it, particularly with his family and non-kinky friends, he nonetheless reached out to other piercing enthusiasts who would go on to spread his message.

Finally, regardless of how primitive they might have been, Doug had formulated some basic but usable piercing techniques that, for the most part, could be applied by anyone.

If you combine all these elements with his good fortune of being in the right place at the right time, you can begin to see the seed that would grow into the modern piercing movement and appreciate how Doug vastly enriched your life.

Next: Gauntlet’s Jewelry Design Legacy

Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to publish full, edited, or shortened versions must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published March 15th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Starting any new business can be challenging especially for someone who’s never done it before. The challenge gets multiplied several times when it’s in a new industry. To the best of my knowledge no one before me had ever attempted to do just body piercing as a profession. A handful of tattooists were doing it, but it was strictly a sideline.It’s not that someone else couldn’t have done what I did. The time just happened to be right, and I was the one who seized the moment. Within a few short years the world had seen the hippie movement, women’s liberation, and gay liberation. The sexual revolution was in full swing. I saw no reason to be ashamed because piercings turned me on and no reason why the rest of the world shouldn’t find out what piercing might have to offer them.

I imagine the process of starting a new business is pretty much the same anywhere, but here in California you have to file a fictitious name statement and run a notice in the newspaper to the effect that you’re doing business under that name. Then you need to open a business bank account and do the necessary paperwork with the State Board of Equalization for the privilege of collecting sales tax. Plus there are lots of little odds and ends. It’s pretty much a pain in the ass. But before you can do anything you need a name for your business.

Doug and I went back and forth trying to come up with something. He favored a mythological theme such as the name of a Greek god. I wanted something with a tough, masculine feel that would appeal particularly to the gay leathermen and S/M fetishists I perceived as my most likely customer base.

In the process of accessorizing my leather wardrobe, I had made a wide leather watchband edged with silver-colored pyramid-shaped studs. While watching television one night I removed my watch and set it on the end table. A short time later I glanced over to see what time it was, and in a flash the name came to me. GAUNTLET! It was everything I wanted the name to be. In addition to being rugged and masculine, it also had metaphoric implications. We have two sayings, “run the gauntlet,” and “throw down the gauntlet,” expressions for the ordeal and the challenge. Didn’t that precisely describe this business venture? I did have momentary second thoughts only because there was already a well-known leather bar in LA called The Gauntlet. But that didn’t seem to be a big problem since I’d be calling my business Gauntlet Enterprises.

Doug liked the name as soon as I told him about it. He was, however, of the opinion that I should incorporate. But since he didn’t want to be a stockholder or to have any legal attachments to the business, I opted for a sole proprietorship.

It was November, astrologically the time of year Scorpio babies are born. Scorpios are supposed to be highly sexual, so I thought it would be an ideal time for my business to be born. Since the sign ends around the 21st of the month, I needed to act soon. Thus it was that on the 17th of November 1975, I drove to the closest newspaper office, filled out the necessary forms, and filed the fictitious name statement. Gauntlet Enterprises was on its way.

There was now a flurry of activity. So many things needed to be seen to: the bank account, sales tax issues, setting up a place to make jewelry, developing jewelry designs, designing a logo… the list went on. Everything seemed to be happening at once.

My mental picture of the logo was of a stylized gauntlet forming the letter “G.” It could thus be used alone or combined with the remaining letters of the word.

The personal computer was still about a decade in the future. Artists and designers relied for the most part on traditional media to do their work. One of the newer innovations of the time was rub-on letters. Several companies made them, and though the market for them has largely disappeared, you’ll occasionally see them in art supply stores. At one time there were hundreds of fonts available in a variety of type sizes, with perhaps one or two sizes on a sheet. They consisted of a transparent plastic sheet on which an assortment of letters was printed, mirror image, and then coated with a pressure sensitive adhesive. You would place the sheet, sticky side down, on a surface and one by one rub the letters onto it.

After spending some time browsing through the catalogs at the art supply store, I found a font that seemed to have the character I was looking for and a letter “G” that had a vaguely open fist shape. The font was called Hondo. I purchased a sheet of larger sized letters.

A visit to the public library proved helpful. Browsing through several books with pictures of medieval armor, I found a number of images of gauntlets from which to draw inspiration.

Back home I gathered my art materials together and set out to create the logo. After rubbing a capital “G” onto a suitable piece of paper, I took a sheet of tracing paper and a pencil and began to sketch over it, trying various ways of creating a gauntlet from the letter. In time things came together and I had something that looked like it would work. After carefully tracing the design onto the sheet with the rubbed on letter, I used a draftsman’s pen to ink the details. It took several attempts to get things precisely right, but finally, success.

To be able to make jewelry I needed a jeweler’s workbench. Commercially made ones were very expensive, and I felt the money could be better spent. Using scrap lumber from construction sites and a piece of plywood from a packing crate, I made my own workbench. It might not have been much to look at, but it was functional and adequate for my needs. That bench was in use till Gauntlet’s demise nearly 25 years later, and by some twist of fate, and the generosity of Josh at Good Art, I still have it today.

Here on BME Gauntlet has earned the reputation for being “conservative.” In this forum that is something of a dirty word, usually used with contempt and derision. The same people who are quick to assume that I never took risks often fail to consider what things were like in 1975.

Because there was little precedent, everything I did in those days was a risk. No one had ever attempted what I was doing at least on the scale I intended to do it. There was no Internet providing vast informational resources at the tip of one’s fingers. Every piercing technique, every jewelry design, every material used for the jewelry or in the piercing process had to be subjected to a trial and error process. That meant taking risks. Rather than calling me conservative, a better word would be cautious. It was essential to me that every precaution be taken to assure the well being of every person I pierced or who wore my jewelry. What would the fate of the entire piercing movement been if I hadn’t proceeded cautiously and someone had suffered serious harm? How quickly would the movement have come to an abrupt end?

Fortunately, starting out with such a small customer base I was able to personally keep tabs on the people I did business with. If something went wrong, I had the opportunity to figure out why and immediately try something different. By proceeding with caution I could progress slowly and minimize the risk of serious harm.

Of course, without Doug none of this would have happened. He provided a catalog of “traditional” piercings, along with their often-colorful histories, which leant them credibility and implied that they were all possible. However crude, he had acquired some rudimentary piercing techniques. Over a period of years he also had managed to make contact with about a hundred fellow piercing enthusiasts. Combined these three things provided a foundation on which I could build my infant business.

Doug’s motives for setting me up in business were not entirely altruistic. He was married and had four adult children, but his heterosexual life provided no outlet for his piercing fetish or the expression of suppressed gay yearnings. By helping me start a piercing business he was hoping to have the opportunity to fulfill both these needs.

Primarily by placing classified ads in various gay and fetish publications, Doug had made contact with a couple of dozen gay men in the LA area who shared his fetish for piercing. As a means of helping get Gauntlet launched, Doug proposed that we start a social group for these men. We would get together once a month for a potluck supper. After eating and socializing anyone who was interested could get pierced with what Doug called “the laying on of hands,” his term for the moral support of the rest of the group. This gave me the opportunity to do piercings under his direction and at the same time bring in a little money from the sale of the jewelry. On occasion we’d all meet at a local restaurant and reconvene at someone’s home afterwards for the piercing event.

Left: The T&P group meeting at a restaurant. Middle: Eric at a T&P get-together. I’d silk-screened the Gauntlet name and logo on the back of his shirt. Right: Cliff Raven at a T&P dinner. On his left are his lover and well-known piercing celebrity Viking Navarro.

Initially Doug proposed calling the group the Society of Saint Sebastian for the saint who was martyred by being shot through with arrows. But that name thankfully never stuck. Instead it ended up just being called the T&P Group, short for tattooing and piercing.

Back in my fine art days I’d made some silk screen prints. The skill came in handy for a bit of advertising and promotion. I silk-screened some T-shirts with the Gauntlet name and logo on the front. I also bought a button making device and produced a series of buttons with drawings of various piercings, the Gauntlet logo, and the slogan, “We’ve got what it takes to fill your hole.” We gave these out to the T&P group and to clients who got pierced.

Designing and making jewelry for body piercing offered a wide range of challenges. Before Gauntlet most piercing enthusiasts had no choice but to make do with earrings or some makeshift contrivance of twisted wire. Frequently the material was a silver or gold plated mystery metal hardly suitable for the purpose.

Earrings were universally too thin. There were some loop style earrings consisting of a fairly thick tube with a thin wire that was intended to go through the piercing. Some hardy individuals managed to work the thicker loop through their piercings, a process that would have been uncomfortable to say the least. There still remained sharp edges which, if the ring rotated, could irritate and cut the tissue.

Bent pieces of wire also posed problems. There was virtually no way to provide a closure that would not snag on clothing or on the edges of the piercing itself.

From the beginning there was interest in stainless steel as a material for piercing jewelry, primarily because it was perceived as inexpensive and because many men preferred its silver color. Unfortunately I had no knowledge or experience with the material; every piece of jewelry I’d ever made was of gold or silver. Consequently the majority of my early jewelry was made from gold. I did design some pieces of silver, but the portion which went through the piercing was always of gold. Those who insisted on silver colored metal had to settle for white gold.

Our knowledge of jewelry materials at the time was quite limited. I had no idea just what effect the unknown components in various gold alloys had on people’s bodies. Even though I was using 14-karat gold, some people still had bad reactions to it. In those cases our only option was to insert monofilament nylon. We had no idea that nickel was a common allergen in alloys. I’m not proud to admit it, but Gauntlet’s first jewelry brochure included a piece of gold plated nickel silver jewelry. Fortunately we quickly realized its incompatibility and discontinued it immediately.

The one piece of jewelry that became Gauntlet’s bread and butter was what I called the Bead Ring. It might more accurately have been called a Fixed Bead Ring since the bead that acted as a closure was soldered to one side of the ring’s opening. In recent years the design has largely be supplanted by the Captive Bead Ring in which the bead simply snaps into a gap in the ring. This design is cheaper to manufacture and allows the wearer to choose a vast variety of bead materials. But since my primary focus was always on piercing as a means of sexual enhancement, I always felt the fixed style was a better choice. One never had to worry about losing the bead in the carpet if the activity got a little rough.

I can’t claim that the bead ring design was my own. Back when I first pierced my nipples, I had purchased a pair of earrings of that design in a department store. What made them a unique Gauntlet design was the fact that they were scaled in a variety of larger diameters and thicknesses suitable for body wear.

The first barbells I recall came from Germany. Doug had made contact with Tattoo Samy, a tattooist and piercer from Frankfurt. Over the years Samy came to the States a number of times and frequently showed up in LA to visit Doug. On one of his first visits he showed us the barbell studs that he used in some piercings. They were internally threaded, a feature that made so much sense that I immediately set out to recreate them for my own customers.

This was a particularly difficult challenge. The biggest problem was how to do the threading. My gold supplier offered 1/16” gold tubing, the equivalent of 14 gauge. This would work as the post, but how could I tap it? I’d also need the right thickness of wire and a suitable die for the male thread. Fortunately, after consulting some technical person, a company that I had purchased jewelry making equipment from was able to provide the tools that I needed.

Next I had to find suitable balls for the ends. Initially I used those ear studs that are just a gold ball attached to a post. I cut off the ear post and soldered the ball to the barbell post. This was completely unsatisfactory. First there was an unsightly flange left where the post was attached to the ball. Second, the ball had a tendency to explode when it was heated with a torch. That wasn’t much fun. Lastly, the material was so thin that after it was heated it became so soft it could easily be dented with the thumbnail. This wasn’t something I could sell. What to do?

Fortunately fate intervened. On the elevator at the jewelry mart one day I was discussing the problem with a friend. There was another man on the elevator with us who overheard the conversation and gave me the name of a findings company where I’d be able to purchase “no-hole” balls that would meet my needs. The lead proved invaluable, and for many years Gauntlet purchased balls from them for a number of our jewelry designs.

Piercing techniques provided their own unique challenge. Thus far I’d followed Doug’s lead, and aside from the occasional fumble, things were progressing fairly well.

Left: Getting tattooed by Cliff Raven. Right: My first Cliff Raven tattoo in progress. The photo was taken in the jewelry making area I’d set up in my living room.

As role models for issues of sterility and hygiene we turned primarily to some of the more responsible tattooists of the time, especially Cliff Raven who had recently moved from Chicago and opened a shop in West Hollywood. Autoclaving instruments after each use was a given. But the use of latex gloves didn’t occur until the AIDS epidemic hit nearly 10 years hence. Our rationale at the time was that even dentists weren’t using them and doctors only used them for surgery or for probing in a patient’s private orifices.

For some time we continued to use the ear-piercing gun to do nipples. This limited us to using only 16 gauge, pretty thin by today’s standards, but certainly thicker than the earrings everyone was used to. On occasion I encountered nipples that were on the tough side, but with a little extra muscle I always managed to get the piercing point to go through.

Then came the day that forever changed this technique. Doug called me up and told me that some guy who’d answered his classified ad wanted his nipples pierced. We arranged a day and time to go to the guy’s apartment where I would do the piercings. Everything was going smoothly until the actual piercing. The point of the ear piercer scarcely penetrated the skin; it wouldn’t go through. I could feel myself sweating partly from embarrassment, partly because I knew the guy was very uncomfortable. With every bit of strength I could muster, I made one final attempt to get the point to do its work. However, instead of going through, it bent. At this point I realized that the ear piercer was not the best tool for piercing nipples since there was no way to tell how tough they were going to be.

By now I was soaking wet. Though uncomfortable, the client was bearing up incredibly well and was determined to persevere until he had the piercings. Doing my best to save face and keep the client calm, I quietly reassured him everything would be fine, set the ear piercer aside, and had Doug get me a cork and one of the large hypodermic needles from the piercing kit. The nipple was still in the forceps. I placed the cork on one side and, placing the needle in position on the other, thrust it through the nipple into the cork. Though the going was still a bit rough, the nipple yielded.

I now encountered other problems. The forceps couldn’t be completely removed. I was able to open them and free them on the point end of the needle, but the syringe coupling was too large to pass through the remaining opening. I’d just have to work around them. It was also going to be tricky inserting the jewelry because the point of the needle was beveled. Fortunately we were inserting nipple retainers that had a straight post, so they managed to follow through without too much difficulty.

At the time I simply attributed all the fumbling and difficulties to my own lack of experience. This was partly true, but the tools themselves were actually a much more significant factor. This was about to be demonstrated most dramatically as I undertook my first Prince Albert piercing.

The Doug Malloy method of doing a Prince Albert.

Doug’s technique for doing this piercing was incredibly difficult. A small dab of topical anesthetic was placed on the end of a cotton swab (one with a wooden stick) and the swab inserted about an inch into the urethra. After waiting about ten minutes for the anesthetic to penetrate, it was time to do the piercing. The piercer would grip the cotton swab, position its tip just beneath the place where the piercing would go, and, with a hypodermic needle of suitable thickness, pierce into the tip of the swab. In order not to puncture the inside of the urethra, the needle and swab needed to be kept securely together until the needle was outside of it.

Any piercer who hasn’t done this has no idea just how hard it is. Unless their grip is just right, the tissue can move around and the needle miss its mark. In time I mastered this technique and eventually figured out a better method, but at the time it was like trying to hit a moving target behind a curtain.

Somehow I managed to actually do the piercing. It was now time to insert the jewelry, a 14-gauge bead ring. I had to attempt to get a circular object to follow a straight one with a beveled point. This wasn’t working well. Once again I was sweating profusely and beginning to panic. Things were getting bloody. More by shear force than anything else, I managed to get the ring in. Although the piercee was an incredibly good sport about it all, I felt terribly embarrassed. I knew that this method was too crude. Guys who had been around the S/M scene might easily take it in stride, but I couldn’t expect that of others.

Members of the T&P group having fun. Doug enjoyed these photo opps.

It was then that I had one of my “Eureka!” moments. If I simply cut the syringe coupling off the needle, I would then be able to follow it through with the jewelry. In that instant one of the revolutions in piercing technique took place. From then on at least one hurdle in the piercing process had been conquered.

Next: Who Was Doug Malloy? — part 1

Jim Ward is is one of the cofounders of body piercing as a public phenomena in his role both as owner of the original piercing studio Gauntlet and the original body modification magazine PFIQ, both long before BME staff had even entered highschool. He currently works as a designer in Calfornia where he lives with his partner. Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to publish full, edited, or shortened versions must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published January 23rd, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada