Some artists paint for beauty. Makkala paints to heal, to empower, to rewrite stories etched in skin. Some tattoo for style. Makkala tattoos because scars aren’t wounds—they’re beginnings.
Her journey didn’t begin in a trendy studio with luxury chairs and waiting lists. It started with trauma—on bodies marked by loss, illness, and survival. She didn’t choose to cover scars for applause; she chose them because each scar whispered, you’re still here. And Makkala listened.
One morning, a woman walked in after a mastectomy. She wasn’t looking for decoration—she was claiming her body back. Makkala spent 13 hours creating a floral masterpiece over that scar. When it went viral, the world saw art. But those two women saw something deeper: reclamation, resilience, rebirth.
Makkala’s motto? “Art heals where words fail.” It’s visceral. It’s not about ink—it’s about identity, about owning every piece of your story. No hiding. Only transforming.
She travels—even when safer to stay. She carries paint on skin, hope in her hands. She’s endured doubt (“Who tattoos scars?”) and silence (“You’re too soft for this work”), but she responds with color. Tumult becomes texture. Fear becomes petals. In every session, she watches a survivor become an artist in her own right.
Her clients don’t walk away just tattooed—they leave whole, honored, and seen. There’s tea before sessions, quiet conversations, tears, laughter. It’s not about fixing something broken. It’s about recognizing that strength was already there.
Some see art as luxury. Makkala sees it as medicine—with needles, no less. She’s endured judgement, logistical nightmares, grief over clients who didn’t survive cancer—but she keeps going. Because what she's creating isn’t fleeting. It’s legacy.
What most people don’t see: early mornings prepping designs, late nights sourcing safe pigments, traveling customs, mounting emotional weight session after session. It’s a labour of love—physical, spiritual, and sacred.
Because when Makkala tattoos, it isn’t just ink. It’s permission. It’s power. It’s proof that being an underdog—carrying scars—can be beautiful, being seen, being whole.
She might not wear BinkieCo tees (though she could), but she is BinkieCo.
Underdog. Healer. Story-maker.
This is Makkala Rose.
Underdog. Fighter. Scar‑maker.