A UofO Tattoo Takes Shape In City Where Iconic Duck Is Called ‘Paperino’

Stefano Guarneri inks up Oregon’s feathered mascot in three hours. The smooth tattoo artist belts out Eminem and Italian pop classics as co-workers look on.

Jul 04, 2025

Stefano Guarneri, right, has been making tattoos for 14 years. Angelo, center, and (another) Stefano are among the crew at Italian Ink, in greater northeast Milan.

(See photo essay at bottom)

A woman picks up the phone at a tattoo parlor peppered with gangster imagery.

“Yeah, you the guy who wants Donald Duck at college?”

Close enough.

Her name is Maria, and she’s capo to several artists with genetic ties to south Italy.

Inside, hip customers in Air Jordan apparel are sitting under framed noir characters belonging to “Peaky Blinders” and “The Shining,” with a Route 66 gas pump adding a touch of Americana.

In the tattoo parlor proper, a digital template of the Oregon mascot prompts comments on Donald Duck, better known in Italy as Paperino.

Quack.

Still no mention of the UofO Fighting Ducks.

Say it isn’t so.

And Eugene?

Fogedboudit.

The artists and their Oregonian may as well be in Bensonhurst grabbing a slice at Sal’s before hopping on the Bronx-bound D train to Yankee Stadium.

But hold the doors.

These guys are catching on, especially the bearded maestro with the black panther depicted on a bicep. He sings along to a potpourri of Eminem, Pino Daniele, and Aerosmith.

A furious fowl busting through an “O” is taking shape at Italian Ink, the tattoo studio along Corso Roma in Cologno Monzese, just north of Milan’s city limits.

“It’s original,” says Stefano Guarneri, 34, his tattoo gun shading the iconic duck’s sailor cap. “Most people want faces or (wild) animals.”

His client is American, an Oregon J-School graduate getting special treatment because he’s a friend of a friend. That’s how Italy works.

“Turn it up—I like this part,” Guarneri says in Italian to a cross-room colleague, when Steven Tyler starts screaming.

Guarneri, 34, is all business when tattooing but sings along to classic rock hits, as well as throw-back Italian tunes. Here, he’s halfway through ‘The Duck.’

Born and raised in neighboring Segrate, Guarneri says he makes between two and four tattoos per week. For fun, he sings pop tunes and drives sports cars. His own is a souped-up Fiat 500 that rattles and hums.

On task at Italian Ink, Guarneri rarely looks away from the Oregon tattoo. A second Stefano and a chatty colleague named Angelo saunter up to Guarneri’s latest opus.

“Cool,” says Angelo, a Neapolitan who says he likes dark humor and picking up women.

“Che bello,” chimes in yet another Stefano, the third in the room. “I understand everything you guys are saying in English, but it just doesn’t come when it’s time to speak.”

On a three-hour mission, Guarneri doesn’t bat an eye, wielding the tattoo gun as if it’s a wand.

“Sweet Emotion,” he booms, with two like-named brothers deep into guitar mimicry.

It’s done.

(All photos by David Scott)

Got ink? As at a dentist’s studio, Guarneri preps.

All leathered up: Guarneri rubs the area of skin to receive the tattoo, making sure to sterilize it properly.

Easy does it: Guarneri sets a decal of the figure Disney made famous. University of Oregon long ago got permission to use Donald Duck’s likeness for its own mascot. Bye-bye Tall Firs.

Dangling arm: Guarneri uses the decal as a template for the tattoo proper.

Decal’s down: Guarneri readies for step two as an Oregon graduate gets vain.

Check mark: Guarneri does between two and four tattoos weekly and has 14 years of experience.

Down to business: Guarneri references a digital template on his IPhone. In the tattoo, Mr. Duck has a web foot that extends out a tad more.

Fire away: Locked and loaded, a tattoo gun bores into pale skin.

Halfway there: Oregon’s mean duck is dressed as a sailor.

Steady as she goes: Guarneri himself loves tattoos. He explained to the UO grad: “Get it on the underside of your forearm. It’s less invasive there.”