Remember staying up late to finish that one project? The long-winded paper due the next day, the final touches on a friend’s cake, the last stitches on a must-have outfit, or that art piece haunting the corner of your imagination? Karime Contreras, known creatively as “Dawll,” remembers such projects as if they were yesterday. “During the height of the pandemic, I stayed up all night trying to perfect my dolls,” she says. Pages upon pages of drafts scattered across her room, a creative chaos resembling a toy factory boardroom, each sketch a step closer to the perfect doll. Delicate, defiant, and unmistakably hers.
The dolls stare back like tiny self-portraits—soft yet strong, painted in pinks and browns that radiate the same feminine energy as Bratz, Barbie, or Monster High dolls. “People used to think dolls were fragile,” she explains. “But I always saw them as powerful. They hold stories, emotions, memories.”
Dawll has always been drawn to art. Her early drawings caught the attention of an art teacher who encouraged her to skip the beginner course and take AP Art instead. That recognition became a turning point. After being exposed to pop-surrealist artist Mark Ryden and Superflat pioneer Takashi Murakami, she began to refine her style—one that embraced softness as strength.
“They’ve always been a part of me,” she shares. “The dolls are my girls. My world.” Long, flawless locks. A nose as cute as a button. Glossy, plump lips and an aesthetic steeped in inner-girl-world energy—just one glance is enough to take anyone back to the first doll they ever received. They are the embodiment of girlhood nostalgia mixed with contemporary fashion trends and an empowering reminder that softness and strength can be a plural reality. “I’m a pretty introverted person, but when it comes to my dolls, I want to put them out there,” she gleams. “I want everyone to come talk to me about my dolls.”
After sharing her work with friends and family, she decided to post her dolls online. The positive feedback only fueled the visionary dollmaker. Not long after, she received a message from someone interested in buying a print—someone who, unbeknownst to her, would later open the door to one of the most gatekept creative industries in the world: tattooing.
Although her tattoo apprenticeship was a positive experience, she confirms that the rumors of misogyny in tattooing are true. Dawll recalls walk-in clients saying things like, “Oh, I don’t want to be tattooed by a girl,” or, “She only gets booked because she’s dolled up.” Those comments didn’t discourage her; instead, they fueled her determination to earn respect through ink and needle. “Someone can look really well put together and be really, really, talented,” Dawll emphasizes. “Both things can be true.”
In solidarity and love, Dawll’s first tattoo client was her mother. “That’s how much she loves and supports me,” she recalls. “She was like, ‘You can practice on me. You can do it.’ And I remember, I didn’t even have a stencil!”
Now, Dawll estimates that 98 percent of her clients are women—women who power through tattoo sessions with little to no breaks, even as she gently checks in on them. She dreams of working in a studio where people can come for tattoos, nails, piercings, lashes, and, most importantly, community. In both her dream parlor and her doll designs, Dawll is redefining what feminine power looks like. “I have a lot of love for women,” she affirms. “I just really want to highlight the beauty in women—beauty and struggle, beauty and literally anything.”
In challenging gendered scripts that label women as “too soft” or “too much,” Dawll’s dolls serve as alter egos that fully embrace authenticity in all its forms. Her tunnel vision of self-belief and obsession in bringing her vision to life has kept her consistently grounded and creatively disciplined for the past five years.
Some of the dolls are reflections of herself; others are inspired by the energies of the women she meets. Each one is an avatar of emotion, community, and representation, embodying the faith she holds in her own creative journey. “You have to be a little delusional,” she laughs. “You have to believe in yourself so much that people think you’re crazy. That’s the only way dreams happen.”
From sharing prints with her future apprenticeship mentor to being invited to paint at the county fair by art collectives in the community, like 1Culture and Together We Create, the doors of artistic opportunity keep appearing for this dollmaker. On the pink-hued horizon, Dawll is manifesting new possibilities: more live paintings, more galleries, more tattoos—and always, more dolls. “Somebody told me that my dolls could be the next Labubu,” she smiles. “And I was like, yeah, I’d love that. It’s a long way to go, but that’s definitely the vision.”
Instagram: d4wlll | dawll.artistry
