Two matching black and grey fine line tattoos of a feather within an infinity loop, with 'big sister' and 'little sister' script, on the lower legs.

Matching feather and infinity sister tattoos

Fine line · Calf · Black and grey · Photo

Two near-identical tattoos sit on separate lower legs, each showing a feather with a looping infinity line that carries script wording: 'big sister' on the left leg and 'little sister' on the right. The linework is thin and mostly uniform, with light shading along the feather's spine and vane to give it depth. The ink is entirely black and grey, and each design is framed in the centre of its leg against a plain, softly lit background.

Fine line Lettering Calf Feather Infinity Script Sister

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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

Dear Nell, The gull feather you left on the kitchen windowsill came loose this morning when the back door slammed, and I stood on the step in my slippers and watched it skate off over the wet cobbles towards the harbour, grey on grey, until I couldn't tell it from the gulls. Mam says you'll be sick on the crossing. I told her you've been sick on every crossing since you were six, so she needn't fret. She fretted anyway. She has been folding your jumpers again, which is the only way she knows how to say goodbye.

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The sailings are pinned under the clock now. Mr Ogilvie at the chandlery says the Stromness boat runs Tuesdays and Fridays, and if you miss one you'll wait a week for the weather to let it go. I copied the timetable in pencil onto the back of your old school report, because I wanted you to have something in your bag that I'd touched. The loop you drew on a bus ticket last summer is still on the mantelpiece, the one that runs round and round and never finds its start. I told you it looked like a sum that couldn't be done. You said it was the two of us, going on.

I won't write the sensible things. You know them already. Keep your wages in the tin, keep your feet dry, send word the minute you land. Instead I'll tell you the feather is in my coat pocket, and on Friday I'll walk down to the pier and wait for the boat's lights to come round the point. I'll see whether I can still tell which one is yours.