Before and after photos of a black and grey script word tattoo reading mary, then a cartoon Marge Simpson with the word marge in script below, both on the upper chest.

Marge Simpson and name lettering on chest

Lettering · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

The left panel shows a single line of black script lettering reading mary on the upper chest. The right panel shows the same area after a later tattoo was added: a black and grey outlined cartoon of Marge Simpson in a crouched pose, with the word marge in matching script beneath her. The shading is light and the composition is centred on the collarbone area.

Lettering Chest Cartoon character Script Name

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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

Sit down, the lot of you, and mind the cider on the step. This is about Mabel Ferris, who ran the ticket hatch at Gullsby pier for thirty-one years and never once stood up straight, because a sign-writer named Pollard painted her that way on the harbour wall in 1952 and the council would not pay to have her scrubbed off.

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Pollard had a bad temper and a worse brush. He was meant to paint MARY over the hatch in tall gold letters for the Hollis Brothers, who wanted a name for their new steamer. Instead he got three pints into the Anchor, came back, and sketched a woman in a headscarf with her sleeves rolled, crouched on the wet boards with a bucket at her side. Underneath, in a hurry, he wrote MARGE, because his wife was called that and he reckoned nobody would look twice at the spelling.

Nobody did look twice. The steamer was named the Ruby Anne, the hatch stayed plain, and the crouching woman became the town's favourite joke. Children stood on the bollards to wave at her. Fishermen touched her hem for luck. When the rains came in 1961 and the paint blistered, the harbour master's niece climbed a ladder with a tin of ochre and touched her up, and every spring after that somebody did the same.

Mabel gave up the hatch in the winter of 1983. On her last morning she walked down the pier, stood in front of the wall, and said, "Well, you never did get the name right." Then she bent down beside the painted woman, set her own bucket on the boards, and went home. The wall still says Marge. Mary is only there if you're patient enough to look under the paint.