Across Manitoba, laser tattoo-removal clinics are busier than ever, blending advanced technology with deeply personal stories of renewal.
What began as a niche service has evolved into a multimillion-dollar industry built on precision, safety and self-reinvention.
At Tattoo Time Machine in Winnipeg, owner Timothy Cameron Brown says business has surged since he purchased the clinic in 2017.
“We’ve definitely seen a big increase in demand over the past few years,” he says. Brown invested early in the Candela PicoWay, a Health Canada-approved laser widely considered the gold standard.
“It’s safer, less painful and more precise,” he explains. But he says the industry’s biggest gap isn’t technology, it’s regulation.
“There’s almost no oversight. Anyone can order a cheap laser online and call themselves a specialist. Real oversight would help the good operators stand out.”
Other Manitoba entrepreneurs share his view that stronger standards would benefit clients and reputable clinics alike.
Across town, Jennilee Martineau, owner of Ex Inked Tattoo Removal, entered the industry after years
in cosmetic tattooing. The Métis entrepreneur opened her business in 2024, focusing on safety, transparency and trust with her clients.
“People deserve to know the laser on their skin is legitimate,” she says. “Oversight shouldn’t be a burden; it should be protection.”
Her studio uses a Quanta Q-Plus C laser and partners with local tattoo artists to fade or correct designs before cover-ups.
“It’s not about erasing the past,” she says. “It’s about making room for what’s next.”
Martineau says starting a laser clinic takes a major investment in equipment and training, but for her, trust and transparency with clients have been worth it.
“If you build credibility and results, the business follows.”
In the city’s south end, Chris Woywada runs Bionic Tattoo Removal, one of Manitoba’s early clinics. After spinal surgeries forced him to leave construction, he retrained in laser technology and turned a career change into a calling.
“This gave me purpose again,” he says. “People come in feeling embarrassed or stuck. When that ink starts fading, you can see their confidence come back.”
Like Brown and Martineau, Woywada wants more structure in the industry.
“More regulation would protect clients and raise the bar for everyone. Those of us doing it right would welcome that.”
Across North America, the tattoo-removal market is projected to double by 2030, reaching more than $21 million annually, according to Grand View Research. In Winnipeg, clinic owners say demand continues to rise as more people look for safe, professional treatment options.
Modern tattoo removal uses rapid pulses of laser light to break ink pigments into tiny fragments that the body naturally clears over time. Most sessions last less than 15 minutes and are painful only during treatment, but the skin must rest for several weeks between sessions to heal. Black ink fades fastest, while greens and blues are more resistant. Because laser intensity must be adjusted for different skin tones to prevent hyperpigmentation, treatment plans can vary from person to person.
For Katie McGregor, tattoo removal is both emotional and practical. At 22, she got a script tattoo on her side after losing a close friend in a car accident.
“It meant everything at the time,” she says. “But it was poorly done. Over the years the letters blurred together. I just wanted it gone.”
Now 36, McGregor has completed three of what will likely be six sessions, working with a different Winnipeg clinic.
“It’s expensive, around $450 each, and really painful,” she says. “It feels like being splashed with bacon grease. But it’s worth it. I liked it when I got it, but it’s time to move on.”
Sam Novak, a client at Tattoo Time Machine, decided to remove a few small visible tattoos, originally hoping to have them gone before her August 2024 wedding. The process, she discovered, would take longer than she expected.
“One (tattoo) was on my hand, just a simple line symbol that had faded and people always asked about it,” she says. “Another was a small crossed-arrow design from one of those $50 walk-in specials and the third was a tiny script piece on my neck. They all looked rough over time and I didn’t want them in photos.”
Novak has now completed eight laser sessions, with two of the three tattoos nearly gone.
“It’s the worst pain ever, like a rubber band snapping, but worth it,” she laughs.
When she found out she was pregnant, the clinic told her to pause treatments.
“They could’ve taken my money, but they cared more about my health. That says a lot.”
For Jamie Pfau, tattoo removal was about something far deeper. When she was 13, her cousin, also 13, took his own life. Less than a year later, her brother was killed in a car accident. At 18, she and her sister got matching angel tattoos on their backs reading “Sisters Never Forget” to honour them both.
Years later, her sister covered hers without telling her. “It broke my heart,” Pfau says. “Our bond felt
erased. I needed to reclaim that space.”
In 2018, she underwent three laser sessions at another Winnipeg clinic to fade the design before replacing it with a new back piece — a landscape of birds, mountains and crocus flowers representing her loved ones.
“It was physically brutal and emotionally harder,” she says. “But it became a way to honour them
differently. My new tattoo means even more now.”
As Manitoba’s tattoo-removal sector matures, its leaders agree that credibility and safety must drive its growth.
At Tattoo Time Machine, Brown believes stronger oversight would help build public trust. “Real oversight would help the good operators stand out,” he says.
Ex Inked’s Martineau echoes that belief. “Clients deserve transparency about what’s being used on their skin.”
And at Bionic Tattoo Removal, Woywada sees responsible growth as essential. “More regulation would protect clients and raise the bar for the industry,” he says. “Those of us doing it right would welcome that.”
Each laser pulse tells a story of loss, growth or transformation. Pfau puts it best: “Our bodies are
our canvas. Sometimes we change. The pain is nothing compared to the healing that comes with letting go.”
