Ukrainians are inking the fight for their country on to their bodies, with artists getting requests for tattoos of molotov cocktails, anti-tank missiles and even a type of bread that has become an unlikely symbol of national identity because Russians struggle to pronounce it.
As people filtered back to Kyiv after Russian troops abandoned their attempts to seize it, tattoo artists noticed an increasing demand for art that paid tribute to this spring of tragedy and violence, and to Ukraine’s spirit of resistance.
“I wanted to capture this moment,” said Mariika, a tattoo artist who now has an anti-tank hedgehog on her leg and a molotov cocktail on her arm.
She has stayed in Kyiv throughout the war, watching the tales she heard as a young girl become terrifying reality. “I never thought I would live through something like this. My grandmother was a child of war, but her stories seemed so distant. Hiding in the basement from bombs is never something I thought would happen to me.”
Tattoo artists in Kyiv take part in a marathon inking session to raise funds for the Ukrainian war effort
For several Saturdays she has joined a group of tattoo artists gathered in a Kyiv party district for a fundraising day at a nightclub, currently out of action because of the war and curfew.
Other dancefloors have been commandeered as temporary headquarters for volunteers making camouflage netting, organising aid or preparing molotov cocktails.
Anyone can turn up for a tattoo; the price is whatever they can afford to give the Ukrainian armed forces. No money changes hands, they just have to show a receipt for their donation.
A stylized Ukraine coat of arms tattooed in left arm of a guy.
A Ukraine coat of arms drawn, and a Molotov cocktail with a coat of arms as flame, tattooed on the ankle of a young girl during the tattoo marathon.
“At the start of the war it was impossible to work, there were no clients and no moving around. But then people started asking about tattoos so we organised this event,” said Alexander, a 34-year-old artist with 11 years’ experience. “I collected my friends and each weekend more and more artists are taking part.”
They have already raised more than 100,000 hryvnia (£2,700) for the army and plan to keep going as long as there is demand and they have the needles and ink to meet it.
A tattoo artist making hand sketch, and looking at a design on a laptop screen.
Not all of the new designs are military-inspired. Some people want to forget the war, with tattoos of cats, and others want to mark the moment without direct reference to the war.
“I wanted to do a patriotic tattoo and I wanted to remember this period of time and the emotions associated with it, but I didn’t want anything aggressive,” said Fedor, a 23-year-old IT manager who got the word palyanytsia – a traditional bread often eaten at special occasions – tattooed on his arm.
Because Russians struggle to pronounce it, Ukrainians joke that the bread is an unofficial national “password” to catch potential Russian spies. “People will ask what that means and I will explain. I want to highlight Ukrainian identity.”
Mariika said some people asked for symbols of their cities. One girl who had recently escaped Russian-controlled Kherson wanted a slice of the watermelon that her home city is famous for. Kyivites have asked for the chestnut leaf that is a symbol of the city.
But others thrust into the violence of a brutal war want more explicit tributes to the way their lives have suddenly changed, including images of British next generation light anti-tank weapons (NLAWs) and US javelins.
“One man who shot NLAWs wanted a tattoo with a picture of one, a heart and the words ‘NLAW in Love’,” said Alexander. Early in the war he was also asked to do tattoos for an entire unit. “Twelve people all wanted the same tattoo on their hands.” It was the trident – the national coat of arms – a silhouette of their group and its name.
“They came to me to do a tattoo at night because at that time Russians were super close to Kyiv and it was all very unsafe. One of them was 52 years old.”
Civilians are also grappling with the reality of finding themselves on the frontline almost overnight. Nastya, 23, who works in McDonald’s, got an image of a man throwing a molotov cocktail. “For me it symbolises the resistance of my country,” she said.
Tattoo artist Marika checking the tattoo of the Ukranian word Palyanytsia made in a client. Palyanytsia is a flat Ukrainian traditional bread that became a very popular check-word to identify a Russian occupier.
Oscar’s tattoo of an AK47 as a sunflower, and a tattoo of a man throwing a Molotov cocktail with a stylized Ukraine coat of arms as flame on the ankle of a young girl.
Mariika’s husband, Oscar, who moved from Iceland when they married, has a new tattoo of an AK47 with a sunflower – the national flower – growing out of it.
It is partly in tribute to an elderly woman who was filmed pressing packets of sunflower seeds on Russian soldiers to put in their pockets, saying the flowers would grow when they were killed in battle.
“I saw a video about sunflower seeds and I thought it is a good representation of the spirit of Ukrainians now,” he said.
Other designs include the now-ubiquitous Ukrainian border guards’ retort to a Russian ship that demanded their surrender, “Russian warship, go fuck yourself”, and an image of President Volodymyr Zelenskiy waving two guns.
Additional reporting by Vera Mironova
