
After decades risking arrest, South Korea's tattoo artists step into the limelight
After decades risking arrest, South Korea's tattoo artists step into the limelight32 minutes ago Share Save Add as preferred on GoogleLeehyun ChoiSeoulWhen Kim Tae-nam took the stage last Saturday in Seoul, it was a...
A significant story is unfolding on the international scene. After decades risking arrest, South Korea's tattoo artists step into the limelight32 minutes ago Share Save Add as preferred on GoogleLeehyun ChoiSeoulWhen Kim Tae-nam took the stage last Saturday in Seoul, it was a moment he had long been waiting for - the career he had chosen was no longer illegal. He couldn't stop smiling, the relief spilling into his voice: "This was only possible because of our effort, all your sweat and tears. Let's hear it from everyone: Tattoos are art!
"The crowd hollered in agreement. They had gathered on a rooftop in Seongsu, a hip Seoul neighbourhood, for Ink Bomb: more than 90 local tattooists and artists openly celebrating body art, which had thrived in the shadows for decades. Just days before, South Korea's top court had overturned its 1992 ruling that defined tattooing as a medical act - bringing to an end Korean tattooists' decades-long fight for legitimacy.
The Details
In September lawmakers had legalised tattooing by non-medical professionals following a sustained artists' campaign against the fear and harassment they faced. Hwang JihoTattooist Kim Tae-nam says he has been waiting for this day for years For 34 years, only licensed doctors were allowed to ink tattoos in Korea and breaking the law could lead to heavy fines or jail. It was meant to address concerns about hygiene and safety, but the law also played into social norms in a conservative country where body art is still deeply frowned upon.
And it didn't help that public perception continued to associate tattoos with gangsters and organised crime. "We've come a long way," says Kim. When he started tattooing in 2004, he used the pseudonym Sunrat Tattoo, and ran his first studio out of a basement.
There was no sign and it was strictly invite-only. When he launched Ink Bomb in 2008, he says every event was shut down by police: "We had to stop because they threatened to arrest or charge us. We're back this year for the first time since 2014, and it's incredible that we can now gather without any fear.
What Experts Say
"/ Hosu LeeThe event drew a mixed crowd who just wanted to celebrate the rulingIt was an eclectic crowd, from tattoo artists to punk rockers to parents with their teen children. There were no actual tattoos on offer, given inking one requires time and space, but visitors could get stickers by artists for free. For many of those who were there, this was simply a long-overdue celebration.
"It makes no sense that tattooing should be seen as a medical act. Nobody is going to medical school to become a tattooist," says Jay Hur, a 48-year-old who counts a turtle on his forearm among his tattoos. "Korean tattooists had to take risks to do their job to sustain this beautiful underground culture.
"It's hard to know how many tattooists have been prosecuted, but South Korea's Tattoo Union has said it provided legal support to at least 50 of them every year, and estimated that many more were fined. And yet, the profession grew to about 350,000, according to government figures from 2021.
The story has become one of the most prominent items on the global agenda.





