<p>South Korean tattooist Doy counts Hollywood superstar Brad Pitt and members of K-Pop band EXO among his celebrity clients, but his delicate, detailed designs could land him in prison.</p>.<p>Now he is leading a campaign for the abolition of a law that reflects tattoos' long-marginalised status in South Korea, where they were once associated almost exclusively with organised crime.</p>.<p>While tattooing itself is not illegal, it is classed as a medical procedure and may only be carried out by a fully qualified doctor -- with the law setting a minimum two-year prison sentence for violators, although judges can impose lighter penalties.</p>.<p>But artists say the law has failed to keep pace, as tattoos have become more mainstream in recent years, championed by K-pop stars, athletes and others with powerful fan bases.</p>.<p>Doy's career illustrates the contradictions: One of the most prominent tattoo artists in the country, he has nearly 500,000 followers on Instagram.</p>.<p>He declines to say what he inked Pitt with last year, citing client confidentiality, but is known at home and abroad for his unique designs -- from a bird to croissants to a jumping gymnast -- and intricate use of colour.</p>.<p>Even so, there is no sign on his studio in central Seoul.</p>.<p>"On your way back home after tattooing Brad Pitt, there are no words to describe how proud you feel," the 40-year-old told AFP.</p>.<p>"But from the moment you arrive at Incheon International Airport, you worry about the tattoo tools in your bag being found."</p>.<p>Doy, whose real name is Kim Do-yoon, says the situation leaves the country's 20,000-odd tattooists vulnerable to prosecution and random raids -- as well as blackmail by malicious or dissatisfied clients.</p>.<p>Earlier this year, he established the country's first tattoo artists' union and will soon ask the Constitutional Court to legalise tattooing by non-doctors.</p>.<p>But after media reports featuring his union activities, someone -- who has not been publicly identified -- filed a criminal complaint and Doy now faces a police inquiry.</p>.<p>It "feels crappy" to be investigated, he said, but felt he "had to do something".</p>.<p>"If you leave things as they are, nothing will change."</p>.<p>According to the Korea Tattoo Association -- a separate organisation to Doy's union -- at least a million people have inked their skin in the country and the illicit but growing industry is worth about 200 billion won ($170 million) a year.</p>.<p>It says another 200,000 beauticians who apply permanent makeup to their clients using tattooing techniques also come under the current rules.</p>.<p>But despite their newfound popularity, tattoos can still carry negative connotations, especially at workplaces in South Korea, with public broadcasters often blurring them out.</p>.<p>Medical doctors strongly oppose legalising tattooing, saying doing so would "endanger" Koreans.</p>.<p>Getting inked by non-doctors could lead to "a serious infection or allergic reactions", an official at the Korea Medical Association said.</p>.<p>Doy says his union plans to come up with health guidelines for tattooists, in collaboration with medical professionals who support their cause.</p>.<p>He has tattooed at least 10,000 people in his 14-year career, but says he had never faced prosecution or blackmail until July.</p>.<p>Other tattooists, though, had lost their income after being convicted, and he knows of artists who have committed suicide as a result.</p>.<p>"This is very devastating," he said. "In a way, they lost their lives because they were painting."</p>.<p>Some have come to terms with being repeat offenders: Kim Goang-seok, 54, says that when he first went into tattooing 25 years ago, "80 percent of my clients were gangsters, and I would repeatedly ink big tigers and dragons".</p>.<p>He has been convicted three times for inking and was once jailed for eight months, but says he will never stop.</p>.<p>"I've always felt uneasy about doing something illegal, and I still feel uneasy," said Kim, who has been tattooing at his "secret", signless studio in the southern city of Ulsan for more than two decades.</p>.<p>"But this is the only thing that I'm good at. I accepted that when I was convicted the first time."</p>
<p>South Korean tattooist Doy counts Hollywood superstar Brad Pitt and members of K-Pop band EXO among his celebrity clients, but his delicate, detailed designs could land him in prison.</p>.<p>Now he is leading a campaign for the abolition of a law that reflects tattoos' long-marginalised status in South Korea, where they were once associated almost exclusively with organised crime.</p>.<p>While tattooing itself is not illegal, it is classed as a medical procedure and may only be carried out by a fully qualified doctor -- with the law setting a minimum two-year prison sentence for violators, although judges can impose lighter penalties.</p>.<p>But artists say the law has failed to keep pace, as tattoos have become more mainstream in recent years, championed by K-pop stars, athletes and others with powerful fan bases.</p>.<p>Doy's career illustrates the contradictions: One of the most prominent tattoo artists in the country, he has nearly 500,000 followers on Instagram.</p>.<p>He declines to say what he inked Pitt with last year, citing client confidentiality, but is known at home and abroad for his unique designs -- from a bird to croissants to a jumping gymnast -- and intricate use of colour.</p>.<p>Even so, there is no sign on his studio in central Seoul.</p>.<p>"On your way back home after tattooing Brad Pitt, there are no words to describe how proud you feel," the 40-year-old told AFP.</p>.<p>"But from the moment you arrive at Incheon International Airport, you worry about the tattoo tools in your bag being found."</p>.<p>Doy, whose real name is Kim Do-yoon, says the situation leaves the country's 20,000-odd tattooists vulnerable to prosecution and random raids -- as well as blackmail by malicious or dissatisfied clients.</p>.<p>Earlier this year, he established the country's first tattoo artists' union and will soon ask the Constitutional Court to legalise tattooing by non-doctors.</p>.<p>But after media reports featuring his union activities, someone -- who has not been publicly identified -- filed a criminal complaint and Doy now faces a police inquiry.</p>.<p>It "feels crappy" to be investigated, he said, but felt he "had to do something".</p>.<p>"If you leave things as they are, nothing will change."</p>.<p>According to the Korea Tattoo Association -- a separate organisation to Doy's union -- at least a million people have inked their skin in the country and the illicit but growing industry is worth about 200 billion won ($170 million) a year.</p>.<p>It says another 200,000 beauticians who apply permanent makeup to their clients using tattooing techniques also come under the current rules.</p>.<p>But despite their newfound popularity, tattoos can still carry negative connotations, especially at workplaces in South Korea, with public broadcasters often blurring them out.</p>.<p>Medical doctors strongly oppose legalising tattooing, saying doing so would "endanger" Koreans.</p>.<p>Getting inked by non-doctors could lead to "a serious infection or allergic reactions", an official at the Korea Medical Association said.</p>.<p>Doy says his union plans to come up with health guidelines for tattooists, in collaboration with medical professionals who support their cause.</p>.<p>He has tattooed at least 10,000 people in his 14-year career, but says he had never faced prosecution or blackmail until July.</p>.<p>Other tattooists, though, had lost their income after being convicted, and he knows of artists who have committed suicide as a result.</p>.<p>"This is very devastating," he said. "In a way, they lost their lives because they were painting."</p>.<p>Some have come to terms with being repeat offenders: Kim Goang-seok, 54, says that when he first went into tattooing 25 years ago, "80 percent of my clients were gangsters, and I would repeatedly ink big tigers and dragons".</p>.<p>He has been convicted three times for inking and was once jailed for eight months, but says he will never stop.</p>.<p>"I've always felt uneasy about doing something illegal, and I still feel uneasy," said Kim, who has been tattooing at his "secret", signless studio in the southern city of Ulsan for more than two decades.</p>.<p>"But this is the only thing that I'm good at. I accepted that when I was convicted the first time."</p>