Neo-traditional colour tattoo of a cat with blue eyes in an ornate gold frame above white flowers and green leaves, on the thigh.

Cat portrait in ornate frame with flowers on thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A realistic portrait of a cat with a dark face, pale fur and blue eyes sits inside an ornate brown and gold frame set on a turquoise background, with purple beads at its neck. Two white flowers with yellow centres and green leaves sit below the frame. Bold black outlines and smooth shading in blue, purple, green, yellow and brown give the piece a strong, detailed look across the thigh.

Neo-trad Realism Thigh Cat Portrait Frame Flower Leaves Bead Jewel

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now sit down by the range and mind the kettle, because this is the business of the cat called Winky, and nobody in Hallam Cross tells it right. Her mistress was Mrs Ada Pell, who kept the draper's on Mill Lane. Her husband died in the spring of fifty-three owing money to half the town, and after the funeral Ada went through his coat pockets and found a pawn ticket for a gilt frame, oval and carved like a crown had melted over it. She fetched it out of Brackley's back room for two shillings and a promise.

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Then came the painter. Mr Lionel Voss arrived on the Thursday bus with a box of brushes and a sheet of turquoise card he swore was the exact sky over the Adriatic, though none of us had seen the Adriatic. He would paint any creature for half a crown, and Ada wanted Winky in that frame before the cat grew any older. Winky would not sit. She sat on the piano lid, on the ledger, on Voss's hat. Only when Ada fastened a string of purple glass beads, her own mother's, round the cat's neck did Winky stop and look at the painter as if he owed her rent.

He worked three weeks. On the last morning the canvas was rolled, the frame was hung above the counter, and the cat was gone. Ada searched every drain on Mill Lane. Then the porter at the station swore he had seen a cream and dark cat walking the top of the platform wall, beads glinting, bound for the London train. I have never believed a word of it.

But the portrait still hangs above the draper's till, and every morning Ada dusts the beads. She says Winky is only away, and that a proper cat always finds her way home.