Black and grey realism tattoo of a lace bow with shaded folds, on the side of a person's ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lace bow tattoo on the side ribs

Realism · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a three-dimensional bow made from black lace with a fine floral pattern and a gathered knot at the centre. Soft grey shading gives the ribbon volume and casts a subtle shadow on the skin beneath it. The bow sits alone against a plain skin background, with a dark top at the upper edge and denim visible at the bottom of the frame.

Realism Ribs Bow Lace Ribbon

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

Margaret had spent the whole coach journey rehearsing what she would say to Denise Partridge, and when the function room door swung open at the Crown to reveal a man carrying Denise's old tennis bag instead, every word fled her. The room smelled of carpet shampoo and warm sausage rolls. Someone had propped a photograph of the 1987 netball team on an easel by the bar, and people kept stopping in front of it to argue about who had been unkind to whom.

Keep reading

The bow was in her coat pocket, where it had been since she left the house, folded flat and soft at the creases. Black lace, the kind her mother bought by the metre from the market on Fridays, it had lived tied to the handle of Margaret's locker for the whole spring term, because Denise had said a girl with a lace bow could get away with anything, including the mock results, which neither of them had.

Then Denise was there, taller than Margaret remembered, clutching a plastic sandwich bag. "You still have yours," she said, and it was not a question. They had cut the bow in two the week Gary Lowe chose someone else, Denise taking the loops and Margaret keeping the knot, each swearing it was the last thing they would ever share. Denise shook out her half, pale along the folds where it had been kept away for thirty-odd years.

Margaret set the knot against the loops and they fitted, the stitching lining up as if no time had passed. Neither of them said sorry. They tied the bow to the brass rail of the coat stand, pulled it tight, and left it there for the caretaker to find.