La Ultima Flor Provides a Safe Space in Tattooing

Even the most tattooed person on the planet still holds some trepidation when walking into a new shop. It’s even more daunting as a woman, someone who identifies as BIPOC or a member of the LGBTQ+ community. Tattoo shops have long held hard and intimidating exteriors, in tandem with being historically dominated by men. Women-owned and queer-owned tattoo shops are looking to reshape our perceptions of what a tattoo shop can be. A brand new studio, La Ultima Flor, is one of the few who are creating warm and inviting atmospheres in which you’re encouraged to show up as yourself, no matter who you are.

Brooklyn native Alexandra Abril and LA-born Monikka Velvet are two perfect examples of those in the industry who are amplifying inclusive tattoo shops. Abril, who is Latina, and Velvet, who is Filipina, are a married couple who share similar backgrounds, both having grown up loving art and getting tattooed. After working in a queer-owned tattoo shop in Bushwick, High Hopes Tattoo, for nearly two years, the pair gracefully departed to create a new outlet representative of their wildest vision.

“We decided we can actually open up a studio ourselves where we can be comfortable tattooing,” Velvet says, “And any client of ours can come and feel safe as well.” This year, the pair decided to take a leap of faith and open their private studio La Ultima Flor. In this shop, the artists have cultivated a vivid utopia of art and creativity where their number one priority is to nurture their clients through the sometimes daunting experience of getting tattooed.

The whole process happened quickly, facilitated by the artists being under a bit of pressure. “Honestly, I was looking everywhere for a place,” Abril says. After stumbling upon a listing on Craigslist, she went into overdrive. “I poured my heart out in the email, just saying that we need a space to tattoo. Me and my wife want to create something bigger. We’ve been in the industry for so many years, and [the lister] felt that. It was just all a miracle that we’re so thankful for. And now we have this, so it was a beautiful journey.”

La Ultima Flor eschews the stereotypical appearance of a tattoo shop, signaling to newcomers that this is a safe space. Walls covered in art and plants, neon signs, a mannequin draped with Christmas lights, a mirror backlit by LED strips and burning candles fully set the mood. A fridge full of refreshments, candy and snacks on standby, a coffee maker and “90 Day Fiance” queued up on the big screen make you feel right at home. Basically, think of your artsy friend’s bedroom on a Friday night, amped up to 20.

Coming from two opposite coasts, the collision of Velvet and Abril’s worlds gives the shop its flair. “Once you walk in our shop, you definitely have a sense of a gangster West Coast feel mixed in with Brooklyn grittiness and rawness,” says Velvet. Much of the artwork on their walls come from Brooklyn-raised artists as well. “And if we’re not watching TV,” Abril says, “it’s the music we’re playing. People already know, okay, you’re definitely from either New York or LA. We’re proud of where we’re from, you know? Brooklyn is realness, hardness, and [Velvet] is chill and 420 vibes all the time. Mixing it together is awesome.”

As artists who have been tattooing for years and who are also avid tattoo collectors themselves, Velvet and Abril know well the feeling of being in a tattoo shop and second-guessing whether they should get a piece. “Once you walk into a shop, you kind of feel when they have their nose up high,” Velvet reflects. “Or they’re like, ‘You’re gay, don’t come to my shop.’ You feel that automatically coming.” The discomfort they’ve felt from being ostracized is something they wish for no one else to ever have to experience.

Queer-owned, people of color-owned tattoo shops are becoming much more prominent across the country, vibrantly altering the landscape of what tattoo culture has looked like for years. La Ultima Flor is one of the few to proudly carry the torch into this new generation. Because of shops like theirs, people no longer instinctively call to mind a hyper-masculine ambience when they think of a tattoo shop. Through the sheer act of pursuing what they’re passionate about, the artists are reclaiming a space in the industry that has unsuccessfully tried to exclude them.

“It was definitely much harder [entering the tattoo industry] being a female,” says Velvet. “And we’re both women of color, and we’re lesbian, and we’re married. So people see that like, ‘What the fuck is this? That’s so many X’s there.’ But this is what we love. We’re just gonna keep doing it. We’re gonna prove everybody wrong.”

Everybody who has been tattooed knows that the process is more than just a business transaction—it’s an experience. When you look back on that piece, you want to remember a positive memory attached to it, because it’s on your body forever. It’s easy to see why people who’ve struggled to be accepted for their identity seek tattoo artists who share their lived experiences. With the introduction of more familiar and comforting faces populating tattoo shops, more people who have held reservations about getting tattooed will finally feel safe taking that first step into a new shop.

“It’s part of the whole experience,” Velvet confirms. “It’s not just, hey, you’re getting a tattoo, you’re in and out. Nah. You wanna come and chill, smoke a blunt afterwards, we’re down.”