Leah Jung is a professional model, singer/songwriter and writer, currently residing in New York; she travels regularly. In addition to being one of the world’s most recognizable women used in media that targets tattoo culture, she also writes a monthly column for Fast Lane Biker NY magazine, and was recently cast as the lead role in her first film experience. For booking, contact leahjung.info@gmail.com

“It’s really rare as a photographer to have just about every image you take at a session be a ‘good one.’ Leah has an amazing ability to make images unique, interesting and appealing on a consistent basis.” -Sawicki Studios

Who is this girl?
Written by Matthew Kirshner

Whenever I think of my friend Leah Jung, two integral and trademark expressions come to mind: “jerk-off hot” and “big fat dork.” The first one, coarse though it may be, speaks for itself: Leah’s a sexier broad than just about anyone you’ll ever meet. Even a cursory glance at her resonates in the mind and bodyparts well beyond. The second phrase, however, is the key to understanding who she is. She’s often clumsy, sometimes awkward, and somehow manages to get herself and those around her into all sorts of wacky hijinks. That disarming, humorous charm is what sets her apart from all the other knockout dames with pirate skull tattoos on their chest. As she is likely to say about herself, Leah is neat.

Leah gets a good deal of press from the body art that adorns her frame, and for good reason. Every one of her tattoos is the product of careful planning and intricate detail. Most importantly, each one of them is imbued with a special meaning for her, one which she may or may not divulge to the rest of us schmoes. It’s not that Leah’s self-absorbed, tacit or narcissistic; quite the opposite, in fact. We see Leah, we hear her loverly singing voice, we read her off-the-cuff blog posts, and that oughta suffice. When so much of her is enjoyed by us both aesthetically and personally, it’s kinda neat to be grateful and to accept that some things are for her alone.

Anaïs Nin wrote, “we don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” In my case, I see Leah as the heavily tattooed little sister I never had, someone to whom I’d administer noogies to this day if she didn’t have a good five inches of height on me.