Black and grey traditional tattoo of a woman with cat ears, teardrop earrings and a pearl necklace, on the upper leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat-eared woman portrait on the thigh

Traditional · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey tattoo shows a woman's head and shoulders with cat ears, dark swept-back hair, heavy dark lips and teardrop earrings. Bold black outlines and smooth grey shading define the face, with a pearl necklace and drop beads below, set against bare skin. A partial second tattoo, mostly out of frame, appears at the right edge.

Traditional Thigh Woman Portrait Hair Earring Lip Teardrop

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

Ottilie Vane had sold pearls from the same stall on Ring Four for nineteen years, and she knew a real drop from a grown one by the weight of it in her palm. The man across the counter did not know the difference. He had come in with a string of them wrapped in a handkerchief, asking whether the Ceres Exchange still bought from the old lines, and his hands would not stop moving.

Keep reading

"Where did you get these?" she asked. He said his grandmother. She said nothing, only tilted the strand under the amber lamp so the lustre rolled like spilt milk. Sable, the shop's grey cat, flicked her ears from the shelf above the scales, and the stranger flinched. Ottilie had learned long ago that the people who feared the cat were usually the ones carrying something that was not theirs.

She named a price, half what he wanted, then a little more, because a fence who cheats the frightened ends up with a shop full of frightened customers. He took it. While he counted the coins, his fingers left oil on the brass, and he did not look at the window once.

After he left she held the pearls up to the light for a long time. Each one had the same tiny flaw at the same spot, like a thumbprint pressed in wax. Sable jumped onto the counter and pushed her head against the glass case where the drop-beaded collar hung. Ottilie took the string down, fastened it at her own throat, and saw in the dark window that the teardrops hung just where they should.