Tattoos: Marked by Movement. Exploring Body Art, Identity and Transformation.
You’ll notice in every Hackney fitness studio that tattoos are everywhere. It’s more unusual if somebody doesn’t have one these days! As a movement teacher working in one of London’s most expressive and creative boroughs, I have come to see tattoos not just for fashion or art, but as another way people inhabit their bodies.
A Brief History
Tattoos have always been more than decoration. Across cultures over the centuries they have marked warriors, healers, sailors and outcasts. They were about belonging, ink links to tribes, clans, bloodlines and brotherhoods. They were prayers and charms and proof you’d walked through the fire and survived it.
In Polynesia, tattooing (‘tatau’, meaning ‘to mark’) was sacred lineage art carrying ancestral stories, spiritual protection and a persons role in the community. In ancient Egypt, inks were seen as powerful talismans for meaning and protection, especially for women in sacred roles like priestesses, dancers or seers. In the Americas, many indigenous nations used tattooing as a rite of passage and a shield. They believed they guarded the soul during shamanic journeys and signalled a persons spiritual rank.
Even today in modern parlours with their sterile tools, there’s still something dusk till dawn like, tribal, primal, pagan and ‘outlawish’ about them. I always come out feeling I need to get on a Harley, not the 149!
The Psychology of Tattoos
Psychologists have long studied why people get tattoos. For many they are about taking ownership of the body (especially after trauma, illness or major life changes). They preserve memories of a person or place or an older or new version of the self.
For others its identity and a visual declaration of who they are and where they belong. And sometimes it’s about control in a world that feels controlling.
For people navigating gender identity, tattoos can express who they really are and create a sense of belonging in your own skin.
For those living with body dysmorphia or recovering from disordered eating, they can reshape and rewrite the body’s narrative.
In fitness it can be the same. We come back to the body after disconnection. We build trust in our own strength after shame, invisibility or loss.
A Conversation with Ana, Owner Room 13 Tattoo, The Factory Dalston
My neighbour at The Factory, Ana, has done two of my tattoos. She’s got the finest line work and I love her no-nonsense, brutally honest approach to tattoos and life (especially compared to me, who’s typically over-deeping everything, ha ha). I asked her some questions…
When did you start tattooing and why?
I started tattooing in London in 2013. I was trained in product design, which meant hours in front of a screen, and I hated that. Tattooing was one of the few drawing skills that didn’t require a computer, just hands, ink and focus. At first, I didn’t like drawing the same thing twice (once on paper, then on skin), but it actually became the best part, like a practice run before something permanent. Tattooing leaves no space for mistakes. I liked that.
Do you see tattooing as a ritual or spiritual act?
Honestly, for me, tattooing is just a lot of fun. There’s no rush, no stress. Most people come in on their day off, in a good mood, doing something for themselves. The meaning behind the tattoo is often secondary. The experience is what matters most.
It’s also strangely intimate. You’ve never met me before, and now I’m about to cause you pain, keep you in an awkward position for hours, and leave a permanent mark on your body. It’s like a blind date with a needle. You have to find common ground, talk, laugh or annoy each other until its done!
Have you seen tattoos help people reclaim their bodies?
People often get tattooed to move on. To forget, but not forget. It becomes a visible reminder and something they don’t have to carry mentally, because it’s already there on their skin. A message to stay strong. You see it every day, whether you’re thinking about it or not.
Is there a tattoo you’ll never forget?
Yes. I once tattooed DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) in big black lettering across the chest of an 89 year-old woman. She didn’t want anything delicate or pretty, just very clear and visible. She was partially deaf, drove herself from Lancaster Gate to Dalston and had the best stories. I had a wonderful day with her.
What’s popular right now and what does it say about people?
What’s popular now is what everyone else has, which is kind of funny, considering tattooing used to be about standing out. Lots of delicate, small designs, often repeated. It’s like in fashion: trends come and go, and sometimes (hopefully) don’t come back.
Any trends you secretly wish would disappear?
Not really. There’s a customer for everything.
What’s the creative process like when designing a custom piece?
I usually understand what a customer wants pretty quickly — but once they see it on paper, that’s when the creativity really starts. Suddenly they have ideas. As long as it’s technically doable, I don’t question it. It’s their tattoo, their story. They’re the ones wearing it, not me.
My Own Tattoo Haul
The Butterfly (Age 16)
Underage (I even brought my 9 year old sister with me wtf), impulsive and just, as always, trying to rebel. I didn’t know what I wanted, I just chose from the books. It was done in Kingston by a guy called Mark, who actually had a bit of a name in the tattoo world. I went with a cartoon-style butterfly on my lower back. Not quite a tramp stamp, but close enough! Still, I love that it’s survived, bright and unapologetic, even now, decades later. A symbol of transformation, although I wasn’t thinking that deeply at the time,
The Stars (2004)
The next was in the early 2000s, Valentine’s Day, single, and wanting something to honour my independence. I chose 3 stars by my bikini line (‘star’way to heaven, lol). Classic early 2000s!
The Heart (and the Cover-Up) 2008
Another Valentine’s Day and another spontaneous move. I’ve always loved Adam Ant. My first crush, Prince Charming, my first album (and one I still listen to weekly, damn, its sexy). I was obsessed with the red heart he painted on his face, and I wanted it tattooed on my wrist.
Bad move. I didn’t research the studio, and what I got looked more like a wart than a heart.
So I went for a cover-up. I wanted something that spoke to light and the shadow. Something messy, chaotic, emotional and dark, yet spiritual and transformative. The artist designed a watercolour lotus, with splodgy edges that blurred over the failed heart. It’s definitely not perfect and there’s even some mistakes, but that’s what I love. And lotus flowers grow from mud.
“I Feel Love” 2020 (Ana’’s Work)
Later, I got a fine-line typewriter font tattoo from Ana. It reads: “I Feel Love”, in tribute to the Donna Summer hit produced by legend, Giorgio Moroder (which is often considered the first electronic dance track). But this was more than just a nod to disco and house music, but a reminder of resilience and always coming back to the frequency of love, no matter what. My daughter always winds me up saying I have ‘Ring my Bell' instead!
The Snake (2023)
Then came a hand-poked snake, done in Brighton. I placed it behind me, where the past lives. Snakes shed skin and don’t look back. The snake has always been so misunderstood. In the story of Eve, the snake becomes a symbol of shame, sin, seduction. But in older mystery lineages the snake is sacred and a sign of wisdom, awakening, radical transformation and the dark feminine. The snake isn’t evil. It is ancient and carries truths older than scripture.
The Sword (Archangel Michael) 2024
My most recent piece and my favourite is a fine-line sword, also designed by Ana, inspired by a tomb I love at Abney Park cemetery. It’s a tribute to Archangel Michael, the spiritual warrior and my own personal protector. He slays demons and fights for the light. What blew my mind here is it lines up perfectly with the ‘I feel love’ text, even though we didn’t intend it to. It’s like some Leonardo De Vinci, geometric wizardry. Destined.
For me, tattoos are not about chasing perfection. They are stories on the body, like scars and stretch marks. And a reminder that, just like movement, we are shaped by what we live through.