By Raquel Luaces & Max Gil
Tattooing, which still preserves its counter-cultural character after having developed on the margins for centuries, challenges and transforms its rules from within the virtual context. The new images of the internet have so thoroughly invaded online spaces that they eventually spilled beyond it, reaching the surface of the skin.
There is a quote that circulates again and again in the tattoo world: “As ancient as time, as modern as tomorrow”. It is not just a phrase that sounds good, it is a fact. The oldest known human mummy, Ötzi, had 61 tattoos. And last year, a robot specifically designed to create tattoos was developed. This means that humans have felt the impulse to permanently inscribe their skin for at least five thousand years. And today, tattooing still looks toward the future in search of new updates.
Anyone who knows a little about tattoo culture knows that the robot, in reality, has no future. But it is a good example of how the hyper-acceleration and optimization logics of the Internet have moved beyond corporate spaces. Artists and tattooers are now forced to play the same game and become influencer creeps: they rely on self-promotional techniques to show their work on platforms and integrate themselves into the algorithm.
Brands try to remain relevant too, adopting the codes of online communities. IKEA has announced its catalogue in the Backrooms; brands comment on viral TikToks or build their profiles through memes, as KFC and Duolingo do, using the self-irony of trends to recreate the spontaneity of the Internet and stay relevant. In response, users build a culture of constant renewal in order to distinguish themselves from this kind of content, which has already been absorbed by the mainstream. Although companies attempt to update themselves, they often end up provoking rejection among the very people who used to share and create these images. When major platforms and brands use them to approach and connect with young audiences, they lose all their value: “What really matters circulates peer-to-peer”.
An example of this is the resurgence of early-2000s digicams among Gen Z. The search for a nostalgic aesthetic combines with the desire to use smartphones less, and recover a less optimized photographic experience, with a slower rhythm of publication, against the one imposed by platforms. This return to low fidelity could be understood as a response to contemporary saturation and to the impact of AI on visual trust. Imperfection now acquires value through human presence, and this is also reflected in the world of tattooing, which shares internet culture through the imperfection of technique.
In one of the attempts to detach from dominant culture, images from the Internet also move onto the skin, creating new trends within tattooing. More and more people are choosing to get something related to the digital world tattooed: memes, halftone reinterpretations of tribal designs, ASCII art, console logos, desktop icons… Whether it is a repetitive meme or an image from a niche community, it becomes another way of transforming the image, this time by appropriating it to the point that it becomes part of one’s skin. Tattooers apply this imaginary to their flashbooks, turning their portfolios into repositories of memes that display and advertise their work through humor and codes of the digital. These tattoos do not always share a defined style, just as the images they draw from do not either, but they do share an idea: whatever is happening on the Internet matters enough to get it tattooed.
C҉U҉L҉T҉U҉R҉E҉ ҉S҉H҉O҉C҉K҉:҉P҉U҉L҉L҉W҉A҉V҉E҉
When a disruptive movement appears, it is evaluated and judged, as already happened with the invention of photography. This is normal. Sometimes, when the orthodox establishment feels threatened by a new way of making, criticism turns into hatred.
When ignorant was born as a tattoo style, intentionally “ugly” and “poorly done”, it was considered almost a betrayal, and people who worked with it were critizied as if they “couldn’t do better”. Today, it’s mostly accepted and seen as a new path, that allows creativity because it rejects every rule. Thanks to this irreverence, it continues to evolve and mix with other styles. The change of mind about ignorant is a result of the recognition of tattooers like Talegos. He choses this style on purpose, and also works in other disciplines like clothing design, graffiti and photography.
What has reignited the spark of a new culture clash is directly related to the Internet: pullwave, which uses the language of the ones that created it, appealing directly to Gen Z and digital natives. It was born in Argentina, in the @vertigo.bsas collective, with @zidddd13 as its representative. From his own words, that he gave us through an online interview, pullwave allows to “create a way of designing and tattooing […] that differs from it was normally seen in the tattoo scene”.
This way of creating recalls the ignorant style because of its debut and reception (mostly negative). When transgression and deconstruction seemed to have been overcome already, pullwave updated the languages and references too. Even though they have been linked to memes and digital aesthetics, because most of them work with dank or deep fried memes, as well as typography that recalls memes through ironic designs, @zidddd13 presents it as more than that, more than just the visual:
"Pullwave was never just an aesthetic [...] It was never about a collection of visual resources, nor about following a trend, nor about reproducing what works on social media. In fact, it was often associated with TikTok culture, memes, reels or brainrot, making it lose seriousness and importance. That interpretation never represented what it means to us. Pullwave speaks about something else. […] The idea is simple: to pull the wave in the direction you choose. Instead of letting trends decide what to create, Pullwave proposes the opposite: to create first and allow the trend to be born from that search, to design from intuition, from curiosity and from what one truly wants to do, without chasing the approval of others. Pullwave is having the freedom to explore any idea, however strange, uncomfortable or different it may seem. It is trusting one’s own vision and building an identity before adapting to everyone else’s. The wave always exists, trends are constantly changing; Pullwave consists in not letting oneself be carried away by them, but in moving them through one’s own work, because the true trend is born when someone dares to do what others do not want to do." (This quote was translated from Spanish)
The conflict erupted when @xulotattoos, a tattooer based in Barcelona, spoke about this style and shared her opinion on a platform dedicated to tattooing. Max, co-author of this text, was working for that platform when the controversy took place. This is how he experienced it first-hand:
"The first time I heard about this style, Pullwave, I had no idea what it was or that it would become so controversial. I was in charge of preparing the questions for the interviews. When I prepared the one with @xulotattoos, I did what I used to do. I went to look at her work and gathered information, looking for interesting facts and reflections. The tattoos were bizarre: “USE A CONDOM” in Impact typography, the one used in early memes, on a person’s stomach. Portraits and memes with a threshold effect, and many references to digital culture made with a deliberately imperfect line that gave texture to the tattoos. They were bold, uncommon pieces. They were not made to please the majority; it was impossible for them not to draw attention. Especially if you had grown up within the visual culture of the Internet. I thought that @xulotattoos’ motifs and linework contrasted with American traditional or other more established types of tattoos that have greater validation. And when the video was finally published, it exploded. The comments filled up with criticism, mockery and hatred toward the style and toward the tattooer for being “not serious enough,” “not having good technique” and “disrespecting traditional tattooing.” The situation got so out of hand that the company decided to disable the comments and release a statement apologizing for the editing of the video and for any possible misunderstandings around the message.`"
Shortly after this criticism, a part of Barcelona’s traditional tattoo community launched the first edition of a fest called Pullwave Masters. It aimed to appropriate the term and make fun of its original meaning. A resident tattooer from one of the studios related to the event commented on a post from the fest: “Zero Pullwave, no doubt. The name is ironic precisely because it means the opposite.” (This quote was translated from Spanish).
The reaction from the traditional tattoo community shows the contrast between the more orthodox way of seeing the profession and the new visual logics of the Internet.
B҉R҉I҉N҉G҉I҉N҉G҉ ҉T҉H҉E҉ ҉I҉N҉T҉E҉R҉N҉E҉T҉ ҉T҉O҉ ҉T҉H҉E҉ ҉R҉E҉A҉L҉ ҉W҉O҉R҉L҉D
They say you never step into the same river twice. The water is never the same. Something similar happens on the Internet, instead of water, it is images and information. Digital visual phenomena appear and disappear. Everything is constantly becoming obsolete. In Bosma’s words: “the eternal flow of networks also eats its own children: the ‘machines’ of the digital age–not hardware, but software.” Even so, she claims for the necessity to pay attention and address this historical moment as a significant period. These new languages and images, although ephemeral, deserve to be studied as a sign of the impact of the virtual in society.
For tattoo lovers, the body has always been interpreted as an archive of experiences, marked by everything it has lived. Like a data storage system that is now also inscribed with images from digital culture. Separating a few bytes from the incessant flow of social media and fixing them permanently onto the skin.
Although the first attempt to name one of the styles close to Internet culture was proposed by @zidddd13 with Pullwave, and the controversy was sparked by @xulotattoos, there is a growing community of people tattooing these kinds of images and aesthetics inspired by the Internet. Not all of them identify with pullwave. What they have in common is their intention to capture the stream of the digital into the skin. Some of them are: @throb.ross, @st0rmy.1rezumi, @inner.speaker______, @mr.roketatar, @malezas777, @kimeraperfetta and @sugarscab.
This first generation of tattooers that bring Internet images to the skin has the same spirit of the first users of the early web, that “was more about spirit than skills. To distribute was no less important than to create”. And that’s the whole point: create, distribute and curate their content. As generations that were born and raised in digital platforms, what connects them with their clients and fans are their shared codes. As an example, @rebirth0041 and @nightmareenjoyer focus on the ephemeral experience, which may sound as an oxymoron given the nature of the act of tattooing. They tattoo pieces that do not prioritize permanence. This is the antithesis of traditional tattooing, which uses solid lines with the aim of ensuring that the tattoo ages as well as possible on the skin. On @rebirth0041 instagram profile we can read a screenshot he shared from @nightmareenjoyer, subscribing her statement:
"I don’t want to gatekeep, but maybe those tattoos aren’t meant for everybody. Maybe you should just go to a studio. Im not trying to be rude, im just trying to save your time and my time, and avoiding us both having a bad experience. Im not a printer you will get a different result from what you see on my computer screen or on my drawing book. Im expressing myself not putting a perfect image on your body."
Another great example of the transformation, almost at the other end of the spectrum, is @malezas777. She creates exaggeratedly big and black pieces that are impossible to get rid of, or cover. What is most interesting is that, although these examples may seem opposed, both represent a break with tradition. These new ways of understanding images, as polarized they may be, reveal a sensitivity toward experimentation and the disruption of conventions. @throb.ross creates compositions linked to the imagery of the internet, while also nodding to the painter Bob Ross through his username, a figure who has appeared in TV series and memes and has permeated online popular culture. @mr.roketatar makes portraits with well known Instagram filters. He designs from different elements of the internet, with screenshots and video games, very linked to digital culture.
As @zidddd13 said before, some people state that this happens because of “a generation that genuinely doesn’t give a f*ck”, that gets anything tattooed, even the absurd. But @zidddd13 is not the only one that thinks it is way deeper than that. @inner.speaker_____ shared a few words with us about this:
"Nowadays and especially after the lockdowns people have become nostalgic for a time when everything felt simpler: no coronavirus, just the innocence of childhood without the anxieties of adult life. [...] Some people are afraid of losing their jobs or are simply anxious about a technology they don’t fully understand, especially since a lot of people/companies claims AI is the future. Being nostalgic is a way to comfort yourself, looking back at a time when everything felt easier and more human. [...] My own work is highly influenced by this nostalgia, using Windows XP interfaces or 90s anime as main references.This culture is a massive part of my life, it shaped who I am today from my personality and humor to my taste and artistic direction. [...] I think internet/digital tattoos became popular not just because the aesthetic looks cool or trendy, but because it mirrors a changing society (we live in a society XD). It’s a refuge of nostalgia where everything was simple, at a time when we are constantly forced to talk about the future through of AI and global warming."
Internet aesthetics and the omnipresence of memes are radically redefining traditional values everywhere: in design, art, photography and tattooing. The images and elements we see on platforms often have no clear authorship, originality is no longer regarded as a relevant metric. For this very reason, copying visual elements is no longer seen as something reprehensible, but rather as a new driving force of creativity and aesthetic value. Ironically, and despite recent confrontations, this brings us back to the beginnings of contemporary Western tattooing, when the same elements (anchors, eagles, dragons, women faces…) were tattooed over and over again. Because what mattered was the act of getting tattooed, the moment, the place where you did it and who you did it with.
"Until about ten years ago, tattooing was something very biased by tattoo studios and, with the Internet, that has exploded. The Internet has brought back that culture of copying. Although it was already a part of tattooing from the beginning." (@callateunpocoporfa via online interview, translated from Spanish)
The collection of designs and tattoos shown here is what we consider undernet tattoos. An exchange of codes between people who visit the same places online. An image that has become so expansive, to the point of touching reality, giving rise to an archive of digital history on our skin, turning it into a body interface.
T҉H҉E҉ ҉G҉L҉O҉B҉A҉L҉ ҉T҉R҉I҉B҉E҉
Ötzi it’s not the only tattooed mummy. There were more in Peru, Egipt and Siberia. The first one has short lines in some body parts, supposed to heal the pain in each spot. The rest of them had natural elements and animals. Cows, baboons, lotus flowers, tigers, deers and hunting scenes. There’s also geometric patterns and religious motifs depending on where the mummy was found. Depending on the community and environment in which they lived, people got tattooed different things. “Time marks our body, covering it with scars, stretch marks and wrinkles; traces and signs of past experiences. Our memory is inscribed on the skin,” writes Pablo Cerezo in El cuerpo enunciado, his book on tattooing. If in the Copper Age and antiquity, the environment consisted of deer, predators or the community’s religion, in the electric age (as defined by Marshall McLuhan) of Gen Z, the environment is an ecosystem of memes, virtual images and interface icons.
This externalization of consciousness is the central characteristic of the electric age. We have not only used technology to act upon the world, but have projected our own central nervous system into a global village that deletes space and time: the Internet. If ancestral tattooing was a mark of belonging to a local tribe, undernet tattoos are a gateway into a global community that lives and grows online. An image that ultimately leaves the virtual realm and reaches the body itself. Undernet tattoo is an aesthetically open visual tag that includes all the designs that try to rescue and preserve, in the skin, the fragments of the unstoppable flow of the digital. By being reinterpreted through the tattooer’s technique, they escape the logics of large corporations and brands that try to appropriate these codes in order to perform an artificial “naturalness”.
Undernet tattoos try to escape the mainstream through shared codes, understood between the members of the same places of the web. An indexical trace of our real human presence, set against the cold perfection of AI and corporatism. It is physical proof that, in the midst of the digital tide, we were there and inscribed it into our own history. When an archaeologist of the future discovers mummies from our era, cleans the tissue and sees Impact typography, unrecognizable memes and extinct interface icons, we will have won our “hide-and-seek [game] with future generations”. Surprising the seeker with the fragments that we chose to save from the digital river that “eats its own children”.
***
BIOS
Raquel Luaces is an artist and researcher. She earned a bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts (2019) and a bachelor’s degree in Design (2021) at the University of Barcelona, where she also completed a master’s degree in Artistic Production and Research (2021). She is currently undertaking her doctorate degree at the same university, in the field of image and design. Her interests revolve around Internet Aesthetics and online communities, particularly in relation to grief and mental health. Her artistic practice focuses on the image, approached through post-photography and the development of experimental video games, with most of her projects taking shape as installations.
Max Gil is a creative copywriter and article writer. He studied a bachelor’s degree in Advertising & PR. He worked in advertising agencies and brand departments. He is now documenting and writing about tattoos and tattoo culture on his subtstack profile.
REFERENCES
Bishop, Sophie (2023). Influencer creep: How artists strategically navigate the platformisation of art worlds. New Media & Society, 27, 2109-2126.
Bosma, Josephine (2011). Nettitudes: Let’s Talk Net.Art. NAI Uitgevers/Publishers.
Cerezo, Pablo (2025) El cuerpo enunciado: Cómo el tatuaje explica nuestro tiempo. Siglo XXI de España Editores.
Lialina, Olia (2005) The Indigenous and The Barbarians. The vernacular web. An extended and illustrated version of her talk at the Decade of Web Design Conference in Amsterdam, January 2005.
McLuhan, Marshall (1962) The Gutenberg Galaxy: The Making of Typographic Man. University of Toronto Press.
McLuhan, Marshall (1964) Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. Routledge.
Pauliks, Kevin (2021) MEMEING AGAINST MAINSTREAM. AN ANALYSIS OF DANK MEMES AND THE PICTORIAL (COUNTER-)PRACTICES OF MEME CULTURE. AoIR Selected Papers of Internet Research. Philipps-Universität Marburg, Germany.