“(Tattoos) are really not a fashion statement in Japan.

“I think there can be some misunderstanding about the presentation of tattoos in my pictures,” Jafé says. Though they might display unique craftsmanship and creativity, inked bodies still carry a stigma in Japan.

“It’s about how much you can cope with the pain.” “They’re very much a proof of patience and endurance,” the photographer reveals. Traditionally associated with Yakuza, this type of design is made by hand with a wooden handle and a needle, and can take years at a time to complete. Part of her project also lays bare the women’s “irezumi”, a Japanese tattoo that usually covers part or most of the body. So, women have a very ambiguous and interesting role.” “If you are a Yakuza, then you are a man. “By definition, a Yakuza cannot be a woman,” the French-born image-maker explains over the phone from Tokyo, where she has been living for over five years. “命預けます”, or “I give you my life”, which centres around the women of Japan’s Yakuza. This lack of knowledge is what drew photographer Chloé Jafé to her biggest project to date. However, stories about the women – the wives, daughters, mistresses, and bar hostesses – that orbit around the criminal activities of the male gangsters are rarely heard of. In Japan, organised crime syndicates are deeply embedded in the country’s business affairs and culture. In 2015, Netflix’s Narcos shifted the focus towards Colombia’s criminal organisations through the story of drug kingpin Pablo Escobar.

On the silver screen, cult classics like The Godfather or Goodfellas have shaped the public’s perceptions of what being a mobster means. The underworld infamy of organised crime has long been romanticised in pop culture.

Japanese mafia