Colour realism tattoo of a pink high-heeled shoe, lipstick, teal feather and cupcake on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Heels, lipstick and cupcake on a thigh

Realism · Thigh · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a pink stiletto-style heel with a bow, a red lipstick, a teal feather curling behind a pale heart outline, and a purple-frosted cupcake topped with a cherry. The shading is smooth and rounded, with soft highlights on the shoe and frosting and fine stippling around the heart. Bright pinks, purples and teals dominate against the skin, and the design is arranged as a tight cluster filling the frame.

Realism Thigh Lipstick Feather Heart Cupcake Cherry Bow

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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 heels are still in their tissue paper when the hooter goes at six, and you can hear your dad's boots on the back step before anything else. You have been saving the Co-op divvy coupons since Easter, snipping them one by one and pinning them inside the biscuit tin, and tonight the shoes are yours: pink satin, a bow at the ankle, and a heel that clicks on the flags like a dropped spoon. Your mother says you will break your neck on the cinders at the pit head. You say nothing and reach for the lipstick instead, a shade the chemist on Chapel Row calls Cherry Kiss, which you bought with the money from the Sunday bottle collection.

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The welfare hall smells of Brylcreem and wet coats. Mrs Dunn has sent up a cake for the raffle table, though you bought yours from her shop window that morning, purple frosting swirled high and a glossy cherry set on top like a full stop. You have pinned your grandmother's teal feather into your hair, and it bobs whenever you turn your head. The band plays a waltz and then a quickstep, and the men come up the room in their Sunday suits with coal still ground into the creases of their knuckles, no matter how hard they scrubbed at the pit baths.

Tommy Rae asks you to dance and steps on your left foot twice. You don't mind. Halfway through the third song you see your father in the doorway, still in his pit clothes, the night shift done early for once. He doesn't come in. He just nods at your shoes, then at the cake, and lifts his cap.

Walking home under the lamp on Shaft Road, you carry the heels by their straps and leave the cherry on its paper in your pocket, saved. In the morning you will eat it first, which is the wrong way round, and nobody in the house will say a word about it.