Model with a gold metallic lace-patterned gun temporary tattoo on her hip and a geometric hexagon design on her forearm, beside a sheet of matching designs.

Gold lace gun temporary tattoo on hip

Geometric · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A model wears a gold metallic temporary tattoo of a revolver with lace and paisley-style filigree and a honeycomb pattern across its grip, sitting on the hip above low-rise denim. A forearm band of hexagons and a paisley motif are also shown, and a product sheet at top right displays the full design set, including bees, a butterfly, a heart, a patterned bracelet and the phrase 'I woke up like this'. The designs are rendered in metallic gold with black fill, set against pale skin and a white mesh garment.

Geometric Lettering Forearm Other Gun Revolver Lace Paisley Mandala Honeycomb Hexagon Bee Butterfly Heart Bracelet Text

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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

Hush now, you'll get the gun in a minute, but you'll take the honey first, for that is how the old hall always did it. Mabel Quaile ran the Gilt Rose ballroom in Harrowby for forty years, and she swore every word of this on her mother's Sunday hat. The gunsmith Teodor Vell had been hired to make a pistol for a man who meant to frighten a rival, and Teodor did not hold with frightening anyone. So he sat up nights with a jeweller's saw and cut lace into the frame, paisley leaves curling round the trigger guard like ivy, and into the grip he pierced a honeycomb so fine you could read the lamplight through it.

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When the last cut was made, the grip began to hum. Nobody in Harrowby could say where the bees came from, only that they arrived in June, a gold swarm that hung over the bandstand and then drifted down to nest in the hollow handle. The rival never came. The man who ordered the gun came instead, jaw set, coat buttoned to the throat, and he stood in the doorway while the band played a waltz he had not asked for.

He did not dance. He watched the bees make their slow figure of eight above the floor, and he watched Mabel pour him a glass of cordial, and somewhere in the third chorus he laughed out loud, the first time in years. The gun went back to Teodor's bench that night, unfired. Mabel hung it behind the bar afterwards, and the bees kept their comb inside it, and the old men still say that if you ask nicely on a Saturday, the barman will let you hold it, though you must dance before you touch it.