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Journalling - Reflective Practice MY PHOTO JOURNEY Sophistication (Mastery)

What do you make of this image? #2

Seeing the Tattooed Body: Meaning, Gaze, and Co-authorship

This street photograph shows the back of a figure standing: shorts, trainers, the calves fully visible. Across those calves, vivid tattoos – one a koi fish, the other a lotus flower and possible dragon form – announce themselves in colour and detail. The photographer and subject are strangers; the image is candid. Yet this moment brings into focus a complex web of meaning that stretches beyond the skin. From psychological, sociological, anthropological, and spiritual perspectives, the tattoos form a lifelong narrative. The photograph adds another layer, transforming private expression into public representation.

The Tattoo as Lifelong Narrative

Tattoos function as enduring self-portraits written on the body. They are visual stories of identity that carry forward through time. In this image, the motifs of koi and lotus carry dense symbolic histories. In East Asian myth, koi swim upstream and, by leaping the Dragon Gate, transform into dragons – symbols of perseverance and triumph over adversity (MeaningTattoo, 2024). The lotus, growing unsoiled through mud, symbolises spiritual purity and renewal (GiobelKoiCenter, 2024). When joined, these forms articulate a story of struggle and awakening: I have endured; I continue to rise.

Psychologically, this translates into an externalised self-narrative. Oksanen and Turtiainen (2022) note that tattooing allows individuals to claim agency over their bodies and construct coherence between inner life and outward form. The act of inscription fixes a version of the self that feels authentic and stable. The pain and permanence of tattooing transform memory and emotion into tangible marks – each a small rehearsal of endurance.

The calves as location add nuance. Legs are mobile, active, and visible in casual settings yet concealable elsewhere. By placing tattoos there, the wearer literalises movement through time: the marks travel wherever the body goes. In that sense, the tattoos are psychological anchors – reminders of resilience and personal continuity, moving with every step.

The Body as Cultural Text

Anthropology reminds us that the tattoo is never purely individual. Across cultures, tattoos have served to signal belonging, passage, and moral codes (Datta, 2023). What was once a rite or protection mark has become, in modern societies, a medium for self-expression that still echoes collective ritual. The act of being tattooed involves the same ingredients found in sacred initiation – pain, transformation, permanence, and social display. The subject’s tattoos may not mark entry into a tribe, yet they still index a change of status: from one life chapter to another.

The motifs themselves represent cultural borrowing. Western tattoo culture frequently adapts Japanese and Chinese iconography, often detached from its original religious context but still carrying connotations of wisdom, strength, and spiritual depth (Gallardo, 2023). This global circulation of symbols means that even personal tattoos participate in transnational flows of meaning. The wearer inscribes a cross-cultural narrative onto their skin, making the body a living site of translation.

For anthropologists, this is typical of post-industrial societies where the body replaces older religious or communal structures as the main site for declaring value and belonging (Datta, 2023). To tattoo the body is to write oneself into a wider symbolic economy – part fashion, part faith.

Negotiating Visibility

From a sociological perspective, tattoos are both self-expression and social signal. Goffman (1959) described everyday life as theatre, where identity is performed for an audience. Tattoos complicate this performance because they are semi-permanent props: they speak even when the actor is offstage. Leg placement demonstrates social calculation. A visible but concealable tattoo allows the wearer to manage stigma and acceptance simultaneously.

Studies of “job-stopper” tattoos show that visibility is tied to employability and respectability (Gallardo, 2023). Choosing the calf permits flexibility – the tattoos can be seen in leisure contexts but hidden in formal ones. This is an act of impression management: balancing authenticity with social mobility. The message becomes: I am distinct, but I know the codes.

Sociologically, such markings also signal class and belonging. Once associated with deviance, tattoos now cross class lines yet retain traces of rebellion (Oksanen & Turtiainen, 2022). Large, colourful designs like these still announce independence, taste, and self-investment. The wearer is saying: I own this story and the space it occupies.

The Spiritual Undertone

The koi and lotus are not just aesthetic. Their pairing often gestures to spiritual or philosophical ideas of transformation through struggle. The koi’s ascent into a dragon mirrors the Buddhist notion of samsara – progress through cycles of difficulty toward enlightenment – while the lotus mirrors purity emerging from suffering (GiobelKoiCenter, 2024). To carry these symbols on the legs may suggest a spirituality grounded in movement and action rather than doctrine.

Spiritual tattoos operate as constant rituals of remembrance. Each time the wearer looks down or catches their reflection, the imagery reactivates meaning. Over time the tattoo functions less as decoration than as mantra. In this light, tattooing becomes a lived spiritual practice – an embodied meditation on persistence and becoming.

The Observer’s Gaze

Every visible tattoo presumes an observer, but the street photograph changes that relationship. The image was unplanned; the photographer and subject are strangers. Yet by selecting this frame – the rear view, the calves, the ink – the photographer constructs a new narrative. They turn the personal symbol into a public text.

Here Goffman’s (1959) analysis of the “presentation of self” is useful again. The subject’s everyday act of dressing and walking is a performance directed at an immediate social audience – people in the street. The photographer’s lens extends that audience indefinitely. Once captured, the tattooed body enters what Cooley (1902) called the looking-glass self: our awareness of ourselves as seen through others’ eyes. The photograph multiplies those eyes.

Psychologically, this introduces what might be called representational displacement. The tattoo, once under the wearer’s control, now circulates without them. Viewers of the image interpret character, story, or intent based on composition, lighting, and cultural bias rather than lived context. The subject’s self-presentation joins a network of interpretations they cannot manage. In Goffman’s terms, the performance continues long after the actor has left the stage.

Sociologically, this is the condition of modern identity: part self-authored, part crowd-sourced. Every image contributes to a public archive of selves where meaning migrates from person to representation. The candid photograph crystallises this process. Even a momentary click of the shutter redistributes authorship – turning the wearer’s private mark into shared cultural currency.

The Photographer’s Role

Though unplanned, the photographer becomes a co-author in meaning. They do not alter the tattoo but they decide what the world will see of it. By choosing a rear-view composition, they direct attention to the legs as visual text, framing the tattoos as the photograph’s subject. In doing so they translate the body from lived presence into symbol. Banks (2015) argues that photography always mediates between observer and observed, creating social knowledge through selection and framing. The photographer here participates in that process: editing the world into an image that invites contemplation, aesthetic judgment, or moral reading.

This co-authorship is asymmetrical. The tattooed person writes the first text; the photographer writes the second. The first is autobiographical; the second, interpretive. Yet both rely on visibility and curiosity. Street photography, like tattooing, depends on exposure – the willingness to let oneself, or one’s subject, be seen.

Afterlife of the Image

Once shared or exhibited, the photograph grants the tattoos a second biography. The original act of self-marking was permanent but personal; the photograph makes it permanent and transferable. For photography students, this raises ethical and creative questions. When capturing strangers, we are not just documenting; we are reframing their self-expression. The resulting image belongs both to the world of art and to the life of the person who never chose to be its subject.

In this tension lies the beauty and responsibility of the medium. The camera, like the tattoo needle, inscribes meaning on a surface – but here the surface is social. Each image re-authors reality, joining an unending exchange of gazes where identities are made and remade.

Running through my head

As I said on the other image, when I feel drawn to make one in the street it is rarely for ‘artistic’ purposes. I’ve usually seen something unusual, a load of questions are firing off in my head, and the image is to be a prompt for me to reflect on later as I won’t usually get a chance to have them answered at the time.

I saw this individual, who had just left a Chinese Restaurant standing saying goodbye to two friends. I guessed that they would break up soon. He was propping himself on the lion, and it was the triptych with his tattooed calves that caught my eye. Three SE Asian symbols aligned. I realise that it isn’t a perfect aesthetic, but it was the symbolism that fascinated me. Tattoos are permanent and, when they are as fine as these, I’d imagine that there’s a lot of consideration gone into their selection. The questions rushing through my head mostly reflected this and, unlike the previous image weren’t particularly ‘profound’.

WHAT DO THEY SYMBOLICALLY REPRESENT? I could see that they had a common SE Asian theme, and I know that in those cultures there’s a lot of meaning attached to such designs.

WAS THE SYMBOLISM TRULY RELEVANT TO HIM OR HAD HE JUST APPROPRIATED IT?

WHAT IS/WAS GOING ON FOR THIS GUY? Tattoos often reflect letting go of a past and aspiring to a future. I wondered what his story was.

WAS THERE SOME KIND OF CONFLICT BETWEEN WHAT HE WANTED TO SAY AND WHAT HE FELT HE COULD SAY? The back of the legs can easily be covered, and he looked as though he was a young professional. Had he felt he had to conform to some social ‘norms’?

HOW WOULD I EXPLAIN MY CURIOSITY AND BEHAVIOUR? They didn’t look threatening, but I knew that I couldn’t get the picture without them seeing me.

I knew I needed to act quickly. I approached fast, dropped to my knees and took the picture right behind him. The friends clearly saw me and reacted – he tensed, but hadn’t realised what was going on. Maybe that tensing was what gave one of you the impression that it was staged? Afterwards, we all had a laugh, he was flattered, answered some of my questions, and I left.

References

Banks, M. (2015). Visual methods in social research (2nd ed.). Sage.
Cooley, C. H. (1902). Human nature and the social order. Scribner’s.
Datta, S. (2023). Socio-cultural significance of tattoo from anthropological perspectives. Skylines of Anthropology, 1(1), 28–35.
Gallardo, R. (2023). Avoiding the “job-stopper” tattoo: Placement and social negotiation. Journal of Contemporary Sociology, 12(2), 45–62.
GiobelKoiCenter. (2024). Koi fish and lotus flower tattoo meaning. Retrieved from https://giobelkoicenter.com
Goffman, E. (1959). The presentation of self in everyday life. Doubleday.
MeaningTattoo. (2024). Koi fish tattoo symbolism. Retrieved from https://www.meaningtattoo.com
Oksanen, A., & Turtiainen, J. (2022). Tattoo narratives and embodied identity: Agency through permanence. Body & Society, 28(3), 22–45.

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Journalling - Reflective Practice MY PHOTO JOURNEY Sophistication (Mastery)

What do you make of this image? #1

Hidden Cult: The Price of Being Seen

A student walks onto campus in a matching sweatsuit. The words Hidden Cult stretch across the back in Gothic script. The outfit costs more than two hundred pounds. A plain one from M&S would cost a sixth of that. Yet the message stitched into the cloth draws the eye more than the price tag. It says something that seems both proud and shy: “I belong, but you can’t quite reach me.”

That small phrase captures much about life in a culture that trades on self-display. It brings together psychology, sociology, anthropology, and even spirituality. Each offers a way to read what is happening when a person wears words that claim secrecy yet invite attention.

Identity as balance

Erik Erikson (1968) wrote that identity forms in tension between sameness and change. People need to feel part of something shared, but they also need to feel distinct within it. The Hidden Cult slogan turns that tension into an emblem. The student wants to join the tribe of youth fashion while keeping an air of mystery. Maslow (1943) saw this drive for esteem and self-actualisation as a basic human need once survival is secure. The wish to be seen as unique is not vanity but a form of growth – a way of saying, “I count.”

Social identity theory adds another layer. Tajfel and Turner (1979) showed that people form a sense of self by belonging to groups. Yet pure conformity weakens pride. Brewer (1991) called this “optimal distinctiveness” – standing out just enough to feel valued but not rejected. The “hidden cult” label performs this balance. It marks inclusion and exclusion at once. You are part of the club only if you recognise it.

The social stage

Erving Goffman (1959) saw social life as a stage where people manage impressions. Clothes, gestures, and language become props in a constant performance of the self. Zygmunt Bauman (2000) later argued that modern identity is no longer given by birth or role but must be built and rebuilt through consumption. The student’s £204 outfit fits this world. It is not only fabric but a script: a way to act out belonging, irony, and style.

In older societies, outward marks of identity – religious robes, clan colours, or trade tools – linked the wearer to stable meanings. Now the signs float. A slogan may mean allegiance, sarcasm, or both. The “cult” might not exist at all; what matters is the posture of being in on the secret. The garment offers both safety and edge, a ticket to the economy of cool.

The price changes the reading. As Pierre Bourdieu (1984) showed, taste works as a form of social capital. People use cultural goods to mark class and distinction. By paying ten times more than the M&S or Decathlon version, the student buys not warmth but status. The brand promises access to a “hidden” world of style insiders. The cost itself becomes part of the performance – proof that one can afford irony.

The body as sign

Anthropology reminds us that this is not new. Victor Turner (1969) described ritual symbols as tools that move people between the private and public worlds. Tattoos, ornaments, and dress make inner identity visible. They also carry risk: once worn, they can be read by others. The “Hidden Cult” print sits on the lower back – a place both intimate and on display. It turns the body into a billboard while claiming secrecy.

In this sense, modern branding borrows the force of ancient ritual. The label is a totem that signals both belonging and change. But unlike sacred symbols, it has no fixed meaning. Its power lies in ambiguity. It promises transformation through purchase, not through rite. The self becomes a project of design rather than of faith or duty.

The hunger to be seen

At the root sits a simple psychological truth: people need to be recognised. To be ignored is to shrink. The wish for visibility now meets a world flooded with eyes. On social media, everyone performs for everyone else. Visibility becomes scarce; meaning becomes thin. The student’s outfit, then, is not just a style choice but a coping act – a way to stand out in a crowded field of signals.

This connects to Martin Buber’s (1937) idea of I–Thou relationship. Real meeting, he said, happens when two people see each other as full beings, not as objects. In greetings like the Sanskrit Namaste or the Zulu Sawubona, seeing is mutual. One says, “I see you,” and the other replies, “I am here.” Recognition gives existence.

Modern life often swaps that deep seeing for shallow visibility. “Look at me” replaces “See me.” The logo becomes a plea for witness, even if the witness is a stranger on a bus. The spiritual act of being seen by another soul turns into a market act of being noticed by an audience. The need is ancient; the method is modern.

The triangle of gaze

The meaning deepens when a photographer enters the scene. Their lens fixes the fleeting act of self-presentation. They become both participant and observer. The image travels to others who were never there, inviting them into the exchange. The student, the photographer, and the viewer form a triangle of gaze. Each plays a part in keeping the sign alive.

The viewer, seeing the words “Hidden Cult,” completes the performance. They might admire, mock, or simply note the irony. But in doing so, they answer the call the message sends. Without an audience, the slogan is dead thread. With one, it becomes a mirror that reflects both wearer and watcher. Each wonders, perhaps, what kind of cult they are already in.

Money, meaning, and the sacred

The cost of the outfit sharpens the irony. To wear “Hidden Cult” as a luxury brand is to buy the illusion of secrecy. The market turns rebellion into product. Yet even in this cycle, the gesture holds a trace of the sacred. The wish to belong, to be seen, to stand apart – these are human constants. The market only reshapes them.

The student’s act might look vain, but it also shows courage. To mark the body with words is to risk misreading. It exposes the tension between private and public, self and group, spirit and market. The same impulse that once drove people to paint their faces or wear amulets now drives them to wear slogans. The means change; the desire endures.

What we see in Hidden Cult is a compressed story of modern identity. It is spiritual longing repackaged as style. It is the old human search for recognition playing out in the aisles of Selfridges. It is the self trying to find an “I–Thou” moment in a culture built on “I–like.”

Seeing beyond the surface

For the photographer, capturing that phrase might feel like recording a riddle. Are they witnessing satire, confession, or pure display? For the viewer, the image offers a choice: to stay at the surface or to look through it. To see the slogan only as a fashion quirk is to miss the quiet ache beneath it – the wish to be known in a world that trades attention for depth.

If one reads it with a spiritual eye, the words ask a question rather than make a claim: Can you see me, not just look at me? The answer depends on how we choose to look – at each other and at the symbols we wear.

In that sense, the sweatpants are not trivial. They are a small, vivid record of how people today use cloth, price, and language to manage the oldest struggle of all: how to be both part of the crowd and more than it. The “hidden cult” is every person’s quiet wish to be recognised without being consumed.

Running through my head

When I feel drawn to make an image in the street it is rarely if ever for ‘artistic’ purposes. I’ve usually seen something unusual and a load of questions are firing off in my head and the image is to be a prompt for me to reflect on later.

In this case, the thoughts that were running through my head (albeit in a jumbled fashion) as I sped up, got my phone ready and weighed up where to try to get the picture…

WHAT IS SHE TRYING TO SAY? What makes a young person wear a sweatsuit that says ‘Hidden Cult’ in such an unusual manner and in Gothic script? Why choose words about hiding and belonging at the same time? Does this contradiction show a wish to be noticed but to ward off judgement, or to look confident while really feeling insecure? Does it represent a conflict between wanting to fit in while needing to stand out?

WHAT WILL THE CONSEQUENCES BE FOR HER? While I didn’t know the exact price, the position of the logo (I’ve never seen a logo that size on the back of trousers of any kind before) and its symbolism suggested that it was ‘designer’. This ensemble (including the leopard print bag rather than a student back-pack) represents an investment way beyond that of her peers, and makes her different from them. How do they respond? What does this suggest about her aspirations?

WHAT’S THE ‘BIGGER PICTURE’? What does this say about youth, belonging, and identity in a place meant for learning and social mobility? What are student’s priorities here?

HOW MUCH CAN I FIT INTO ONE IMAGE? As the photographer, can I represent the message in ways that honour their self-expression, show their truth, while reflecting a bigger picture of universal mid-adolescent tensions?

References

Bauman, Z. (2000). Liquid modernity. Polity Press.
Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction: A social critique of the judgement of taste. Routledge.
Brewer, M. B. (1991). The social self: On being the same and different at the same time. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 17(5), 475–482.
Buber, M. (1937). I and Thou. T. & T. Clark.
Erikson, E. H. (1968). Identity: Youth and crisis. Norton.
Goffman, E. (1959). The presentation of self in everyday life. Doubleday.
Maslow, A. H. (1943). A theory of human motivation. Psychological Review, 50(4), 370–396.
Tajfel, H., & Turner, J. C. (1979). An integrative theory of intergroup conflict. In W. G. Austin & S. Worchel (Eds.), The social psychology of intergroup relations (pp. 33–47). Brooks/Cole.
Turner, V. (1969). The ritual process: Structure and anti-structure. Aldine.