A second woman has come forward to claim that Maine Democratic Senate candidate Graham Platner was fully aware his chest tattoo bore a Nazi symbol, and that he kept it on purpose, telling her it served as a reminder that "the United States was the evil, bad guy overseas."
The unnamed ex-girlfriend spoke to the New York Post on condition her name not be used, describing a relationship with Platner that she said began in February 2021 after matching on Tinder and lasted through mid-July of that year. Her account directly contradicts Platner's repeated public insistence that he did not realize the tattoo, a Totenkopf or "Death's Head" skull-and-crossbones associated with the Schutzstaffel, the Nazi SS, was a Third Reich symbol until last fall.
If her claims are accurate, Platner has been misleading voters, reporters, and his own campaign for months about when he learned what was inked on his chest. That matters. A man running for the United States Senate does not get to wave away a Nazi-linked tattoo with shifting stories and expect no one to notice when the timeline falls apart.
The woman, described by the Post as a left-wing streamer, said she immediately recognized the tattoo when she saw it. She told the paper:
"As a person who is a leftist, I immediately looked at him and asked him, 'Is that a Totenkopf?' and he told me a whole, 'he will hold this weight forever' bravado sob story about how it was, but he decided to keep it as a reminder that the United States was the evil, bad guy overseas."
She also acknowledged that Platner may have been telling her what she wanted to hear, given her politics. "It seems like he tailored his answer to me, knowing my politics, since that's one of the reasons we matched on Tinder in the first place," she told the Post.
That concession is notable. It suggests Platner may have offered different explanations for the tattoo to different people at different times, which does not exactly bolster his credibility on the matter.
The Post reviewed text messages the woman said she sent to her mother dated September 26, 2025, before the tattoo became publicly known last October. In those texts, she wrote: "Better not take a peek at the Nazi tattoo on his chest." The messages also referenced what she described as his "small d, k" and claims that Platner tarnished her reputation by using her to step out on his fiancée.
This is not the first time a woman close to Platner has challenged his "I didn't know" defense. Earlier this month, another former flame, Lyndsey Fifield, told the New York Times that Platner was lying when he claimed ignorance of the tattoo's Nazi association. Fifield said she herself would not have recognized the symbol, but that Platner had no such confusion.
"He would joke about it being a Nazi tattoo," Fifield told the Times.
Last summer, the Times reviewed messages from Fifield in which she told friends that Platner "has a Nazi tattoo on his chest." When Platner appeared on MSNBC's "All In with Chris Hayes" in August of last year, he was asked directly how Fifield knew the tattoo was a Nazi symbol if he himself did not. His answer was thin.
"Well, she certainly didn't send that text to me," Platner said. "I certainly didn't know. They didn't tell me that."
Two women. Two separate timeframes. Both saying Platner knew exactly what the tattoo was. And Platner's response amounts to: they never told me to my face. That is not a denial. It is an evasion.
Meanwhile, some Democrats have already started distancing themselves from Platner over the tattoo controversy, a sign that even his own party finds the shifting explanations difficult to defend.
Platner's campaign has stuck to a single narrative: he picked the skull-and-crossbones off a wall at a tattoo parlor in Croatia in 2007, while drunk, as a way to commemorate surviving Ramadi and friends killed there. A campaign spokesperson repeated that line to the Post.
"Graham's repeatedly said he picked a skull-and-crossbones tattoo off a wall in Croatia to commemorate surviving Ramadi and his friends who were killed there. Graham has also since covered up the tattoo, and answered countless questions about it."
Platner has since inked over the Totenkopf with a Celtic knot featuring dogs. He has also stressed publicly that he passed a full background check, including screening for hate symbols, when he joined the Ambassador to Afghanistan's security detail, and that the tattoo never raised a flag.
Phil Proschko, a Marine who served alongside Platner and attended one of his town halls, offered a partial corroboration of the Croatia story. Proschko told Zeteo that they "did not purposely get hateful f, ing s*** because we're racist people" and that they "got matching tattoos because we were in our 20s, drunk in Croatia."
That account supports the claim that the tattoo was obtained carelessly. It does not address the central question: when did Platner learn what it actually was, and why did he keep it for years afterward?
The tattoo is not the only problem the unnamed woman's account creates for Platner. She also alleged that he cheated on a second partner, before his current wife, Amy Gertner, whom he married in 2023, during their 2021 relationship. A screenshot reviewed by the Post showed Platner on a boat displaying oysters in Bar Harbor, Maine, dated June 15, 2021, during the period the woman said they were together.
Last month, a separate story alleged Platner cheated via sexting, adding another layer to questions about his personal conduct. The Post reported that the unnamed woman publicly shared screenshots of private messages on Wednesday describing the tattoo and the relationship.
Last October, the woman had posted online that "Graham Platner's a piece of s, t but not because he's a communist", a remark that preceded the public revelation of the tattoo and suggests she had been sitting on the story for some time before coming forward.
The pattern of personal scandal around Platner has forced Democrats into an awkward rallying posture, defending a candidate whose baggage keeps getting heavier by the news cycle.
Rather than address the substance of the latest claims, Platner's campaign pivoted to attacking his likely opponent. The spokesperson told the Post:
"Unlike Susan Collins, who refuses to take questions on her disastrous vote to confirm Brett Kavanaugh, gut rural hospitals, and supported every foreign war of the last thirty years."
That line tells you everything about the campaign's strategy. When the facts on the tattoo get worse, change the subject to Collins. It is a familiar playbook, and voters in Maine deserve better than a candidate who answers questions about a Nazi symbol on his chest by pointing across the aisle.
Sen. John Fetterman has even publicly pressured Platner to release private messages related to the sexting allegations, a remarkable challenge from within his own party's ranks.
Several questions hang over this story. The unnamed woman's former fiancée, the partner Platner allegedly cheated on, declined to speak with the Post. Her account, if she ever gives one, could either confirm or complicate the timeline. The exact date Platner says he learned the tattoo was a Third Reich symbol remains vague, "last fall" is not a date, it is a hedge.
And the broader question persists: if Platner truly did not know what a Totenkopf was when he got it in 2007, how did two separate women from two separate periods of his life both come away believing he knew full well? Either Platner told them the truth and is now lying to voters, or he told them a version of events he found convenient at the time and is now telling voters a different convenient version. Neither option inspires confidence.
The Democratic Party has had no shortage of candidate scandals in recent cycles. From arrests on drug charges to allegations of taxpayer-funded hush payments, the party's vetting process has repeatedly failed to catch problems before they metastasize. Platner's tattoo saga fits the pattern perfectly.
When a man's story changes depending on who is asking, the safest bet is that none of the versions are the whole truth.