Colour tattoo of a stylised buck symbol filled with green and brown camouflage pattern and outlined in red, on the lower back above jeans.

Camouflage buck symbol on the lower back

Back · Colour · Photo

A stylised buck symbol with curved antlers and a looping leg sits on the lower back, just above the waistband of jeans and a brown belt. The solid black outline is replaced by a red edge, and the interior is filled with green, brown and tan camouflage shading. The photo is taken straight on with the tattoo centred, and the skin shows a slight glossy sheen from light.

Back Deer Logo Antler

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The stencil had gone soft at the antlers by the time Walt Gilchrist dug it out of the glovebox, and he cursed it the way he cursed everything a Northumberland winter had got at. Ninety miles of wet lanes lay between Hexham and the sign shop in Morpeth, and all he had to show for the drive was a roll of camouflage netting on the passenger seat, its greens and tans still smelling of the fallen larch it had been strung across.

Keep reading

"You're cutting it wrong," said Ceri, who was nine and had opinions about tailgates. She was right. The old buck had been drawn for a jacket pocket, not a Ford, and the curl at the top of the left antler wanted to be wider. Walt bent over the kitchen table with a Stanley knife and a ruler, tracing the outline onto the back of the netting. Every cut showed a different scrap of the pattern: a patch of bracken here, a bit of grey bark there, so no two edges of the finished shape quite matched.

He had a red marker ready for the border, the way his father had done it on the bonnet of the Bedford in 1978, a hard line around every shape so the eye could find it in the brush. Walt had never liked it. The red made the buck look as if it were bleeding into the leaves. Ceri liked it well enough.

When the stencil was finished he held it up to the window. The leg loop curled back on itself, neat as a clothes peg, and the light came through the gaps where the netting was thinnest. "There," said Ceri. He said nothing. He was thinking about the jacket, and his father, and how the buck had never once been in the right place on the day. He pressed the stencil flat, handed her the marker, and let her draw the red line herself.