Colour tattoo of caricatured Doctor Who faces around a blue police box on an upper arm, with the printed design held up beside it.

Doctor Who caricatures and TARDIS on upper arm

Upper arm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a crowd of exaggerated caricature faces in the style of several Doctor Who actors, with a blue TARDIS police box rising through the centre. The shading is soft and painterly with bold outlines, and the colours include blue, red, orange and skin tones. The design wraps across the shoulder and upper arm, and a printed copy of the artwork is held up beside the arm.

Upper arm Shoulder Doctor who Tardis Police box Portrait Bow tie

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

Sit down, sit down, you're letting the wasps in. Aye, that's the blue box you're looking at, standing where Mother kept the hives, and no, it was not there at breakfast. It came up Cadge Lane the last Tuesday in August, when the Bramleys were lying in the long grass like dropped teeth, and it stopped under the Worcester tree as if somebody had sent for it.

Keep reading

Then the door opened and out came the crowd, one after another, and every one of them had a face too big for his head. Tom Withers swore the first had a bowler hat and a recorder stuck in his jacket, and he played a tune so sour the bees went home. Behind him came a gent with a bow tie as red as a postbox, then a young fellow with hair like burnt toast, then a chap who looked half asleep and wholly pleased with himself. Ten of them, Tom said, though he could only count to nine after the cider.

They wanted apples, every one. Old Ada Pell met them at the gate with her pinny full of windfalls and said they could have one each, provided they told her a true thing first. The recorder man said he had never once been late. The bow tie said he had been late to everything. The burnt toast fellow said he was going home soon, which Ada took to mean he had already gone, so she gave him two. The sleepy one would not say at all, so she handed him the worm-eaten apple from the bottom of the basket, and he bit it and grinned as if it were the finest thing in Kent.

When they had all eaten, they climbed back in, one at a time, and the box made a noise like a cow sneezing and was gone. Only a smear of blue paint stayed on the Worcester bark, about the height of a man's shoulder, and Ada says that if you stand under it at dusk you can still hear the recorder, thin as a wasp, going round and round the same bar.