Dark ink lace band tattoo wrapped around the upper thigh, shown in a casual photo against a tiled floor.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lace band tattoo on the upper thigh

Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A band of lace-patterned tattoo wraps around the upper thigh, with scalloped edges and scrolling floral motifs in a dense, mesh-like fill. The ink appears dark blue-black with fine outlines and soft tonal shading. The leg fills the frame against a tiled floor, with a green garment visible at the lower right.

Thigh Lace Scrollwork Floral Band Pattern

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

The bobbins knocked together in the bottom of the carrier's cart like a clock nobody had wound, and Ada Pell kept her hands moving so the lantern would show a woman busy with her sewing and nothing more. Beneath the bed of the wagon, folded flat in oilcloth, lay eleven yards of Honiton she had been paid to deliver to a dressmaker in Calais, and every yard of it was worth more than the horse.

Keep reading

At the customs shed the officer lifted the blanket on the seat and found only a pincushion, a cold pie and a hatbox full of ribbon. He asked her name. She gave her mother's, which was Mercy, and he wrote it down without looking up. Ada had stitched the lace into the lining of her own travelling cloak, scroll by scroll, and it sat stiff and heavy on her shoulders, a weight she could feel and no one else could.

The officer waved them on. Near the harbour the carrier stopped to water the horse, and Ada climbed down to find the cloth had shifted. Unrolling it on the quay under a sputtering lamp, she saw the pattern properly for the first time: scallops like breaking waves, roses curling back on themselves, and a mesh ground so fine the light passed through it. Her mother used to say lace was only holes held together by good intentions.

In Calais, Madame Duval held the piece up to her window and frowned. "Too dark," she said. "Who wants blue lace?" Ada named her price anyway. The dye had been chosen to look like a night crossing, so that anyone who studied it would see only the sea. She counted the coins twice, and on the walk back to the boat she counted the miles in holes.