Small black outline diamond tattoo on an ankle, above the buckled straps of a brown snakeskin-effect sandal, in a geometric style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Diamond outline tattoo on ankle

Geometric · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows a small diamond tattoo drawn in black outline with an unshaded interior, sitting on the skin above a strappy sandal with buckled straps. The linework is clean and even, and the tattoo stands out against the tan skin and brown footwear. The background is a softly blurred outdoor scene with pale stone and greenery.

Geometric Ankle Diamond

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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

Mr Aldous Pell had cut stones on the third floor of a Hatton Garden building for forty-one years, and he had never once let a stone leave his bench without first drawing its facets on squared paper. Every flaw was marked in red pencil and every angle checked against a brass gauge his father had bought in 1952. His apprentice, Nina Okafor, had been told this was superstition. She had come to believe it was the only honest thing in the room.

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The stone that came in on a wet Tuesday was the size of a lentil, with a faint brown tint and a cloud at its heart that Pell said would split on the third facet if anyone was careless. Nina did the marking. She drew the outline freehand first, then ruled it through with the edge of a steel rule, because a line drawn by eye always lied a little to the left. Pell watched her hands and said nothing, which from him was praise.

On the Friday the stone went onto the scaife. The polish hummed. Nina held the dop with both hands while the diamond spun against its own dust, and she kept her breathing slow, the way he had taught her. When the table facet came away clean she heard him laugh behind her, a short dry sound, and he tapped the gauge with one finger.

'Keep the paper,' he said. 'You'll want to know where it went wrong next time, and it always goes wrong somewhere.' She folded the squared sheet into her jacket pocket. Years later she still drew every outline by hand before she ruled it, though the stones she cut now were smaller and nobody asked her why.