Colour tattoo of an anthropomorphic cat in a top hat, monocle and velvet jacket, framed in gold with a red bow, on a limb.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dapper cat portrait in a gold frame

Neo-trad · Other · Colour · Photo

A striped grey cat with green eyes wears a black top hat with a red band and feather, a monocle on a chain, and a velvet jacket with a cravat and brooch. The figure sits inside an ornate gold oval frame with pearl strands and a red bow and drapes at the base. Smooth shading and bold dark outlines give the portrait a vivid, painterly finish in mainly colour ink.

Neo-trad Other Cat Top hat Monocle Bow Feather Pearl Portrait

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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 gentleman reaches your window just after the six o'clock sailing has been called, lifting his top hat a precise half inch as though you were the one who had kept him waiting. Green eyes take in the queue, the tea urn and then you, in that order. A monocle swings on its gold chain against his waistcoat. You have worked this desk for eleven years and have never once been handed a passport that is also a picture frame, so you reach for the form marked Other and pretend it is routine.

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The document is bound in green leather, and its pages are painted. Here is Lisbon at dusk, here is a mountain pass with a single lamp burning in an inn, and here is a sketch of you, rather kinder than you deserve. 'Purpose of travel?' you ask. 'Commission,' he says, drawing the word out. 'Lady Vesey of Thornmere wishes to be painted with her late husband's pearls, and I have never yet refused a lady.' He lays a velvet case on the counter. Inside, nested in red silk, is a loop of pearls so fine that each one holds a small reflected window, and in every window you can see the hall behind you.

Your supervisor wants the declaration completed. Goods of value: one frame, gilt, ornate. Contents: one bow, red, ribbon. Weight: negligible. You write it out in careful capitals while he waits with the patience of something that has hung on walls for a century. When you look up, the stamp is already in your hand, and his form is blank except for a single pawprint in ink.

'Enjoy the crossing,' you say, and he tips his hat once more. Through the glass you watch him walk down the gangway with his tail held high until the crowd closes and the light changes. On the desk beside your elbow sits one pearl, warm as if it has been worn. When you hold it to the lamp, the reflected hall has someone new in it: a clerk at a window, tilting her head, reaching for a pen.