Black fine line outline of a diamond tattoo on the upper chest, just below the collarbone.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Outline diamond on upper chest

Fine line · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A photograph of a woman in a black off-shoulder top with one hand resting on her chest. A single-weight black outline of a faceted diamond sits on the upper chest near the collarbone. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the plain dark background keeps the focus on the tattoo.

Fine line Geometric Chest Diamond Gem Outline

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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

The frost came down on the Lower Meadow the week after Martinmas, so hard the ruts froze into iron. I was out before light with the tractor, breaking the ice on the trough, when the blade threw up something that wasn't a stone. It sat in the furrow catching the lamp like a drop of cold water that had decided to keep its shape.

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Dad said it was a bit of bottle, the sort the tip spat out every spring. Mrs Pargeter in Hollin Cross had a jeweller's glass and a fat brown bag of loupes she'd inherited from a husband who never sold anything. She held it to her eye for a long time. 'Glass,' she said, and I felt my face go hot, because I had already told the lads at the sale that I'd be paying for the new calf rails out of it.

She charged me a pound for the look and wouldn't take the stone back, saying it was mine to be disappointed with. I walked home along the top road with the wind coming off the fells and the stone in my coat pocket, turning it between finger and thumb. Every facet threw a little window of light onto the hedge, the same white as the frost on the gate, and I understood why the old men in the Crown never bothered arguing about what things were worth.

That evening I sat at the kitchen table with the feed ledger and a carpenter's pencil and drew it, one clean line for each edge, no shading, because shading would only have been pretending. Dad watched me over his tea. 'Bit of glass,' he said again, but gentler this time. 'Aye,' I said. Outside the frost was already back on the windows, creeping in from the corners to make the same shape from the inside.