Colour tattoo of Hello Kitty in a dark kimono with pink star pattern, holding a fan and a parasol, on an upper arm in a Japanese style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Hello Kitty in kimono with parasol

Japanese · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A cartoon Hello Kitty character stands in a black kimono patterned with small pink stars, with a pink bow and black outlines. She holds a pink fan in one hand and a long parasol with a yellow handle in the other, with a pale pink cherry blossom outline behind her. The bold black linework is filled with flat pink, yellow and black areas, and the design sits centrally against the skin.

Japanese Upper arm Hello kitty Kimono Fan Cherry blossom Star Bow Cat

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Fujita's shop on Lantern Street had three kimono in the window, and a cat named Pim who believed all of them were hers. She was small and white, with a bow the colour of the inside of a shell, and she spent most afternoons arranging herself on the counter beside the thread spools as though she were a fine piece of stock.

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The rain came early on the morning of the blossom festival. Pim had promised the boy from the bakery that they would walk down to the river together, and she had no intention of breaking a promise to anyone who brought her warm rice buns. She took the parasol from the stand by the door, the one with the yellow bamboo handle and the pale pink blossom painted round its edge, which had belonged to Mrs Fujita's mother and was not for sale. Her fan went into her other paw. It was important to look prepared.

By the bridge the wind had turned the parasol inside out twice, and the boy was laughing so hard he had to sit on the wall. But the rain thinned to a drizzle and then to nothing, and the trees above the water let go of their petals all at once. They came down in soft pink drifts, catching in the black folds of Pim's sleeves, settling on the fan, the bridge rail and the boy's hair. Pim held the parasol open over the river and let the petals gather on its painted edge until it sagged like a bowl.

When they got home, Mrs Fujita counted the petals on the counter, frowning, and asked why the parasol was wet. Pim said nothing. She folded it closed with great dignity, shook one last blossom from her bow, and went back to her place beside the spools, looking exactly like someone who had been somewhere important.