Fine black line tattoo of a paper airplane on the inner side of an ankle, with a black leggings hem above and white sheeting below.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Paper airplane tattoo on the ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small outline tattoo of a folded paper airplane sits on the side of an ankle, drawn in thin black lines built from overlapping triangles. The ink is solid black with no shading, and the design sits low on the skin against the heel. The photograph is taken from a low angle on a white plastic surface, with a black garment at the top of the frame and a hand resting on the sheet.

Fine line Geometric Ankle Triangle 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 paper aeroplane stall stood between the waltzer and the tent with the two-headed calf, and Dad said nobody ever won anything there but a bad temper. I was nine, and I had folded my plane on the coach from Doncaster, flattening the creases with my thumbnail until they could have cut bread. Mum had told me to keep it in my pocket. I kept it on my knee instead, where the sun came through the window and made the sharp corners shine.

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The man running the stall was called Lenny Vance, though everyone on the circuit called him Captain, because he had once flown Lancasters, or said he had, and he had a way of standing very straight whenever the generator coughed. He gave each child three throws from the red line at the far end of the marquee. Mine went out over the coconut shy, banked twice against the canvas, and came down in a bucket of raffle tickets. Nobody had ever seen a plane fly that far in a tent, he said. Then he lifted it out, unfolded it on the trestle and showed me that every fold had been a small triangle pointing somewhere it meant to go.

The fair packed up that night. The next town was Hull, and the one after was somewhere I never learned to spell. I still have the plane, pressed flat inside a school atlas. As the lorries were loaded, Lenny pushed a second sheet of paper into my hand, already folded into the same shape, with his name written in pencil on the underside. I never threw it. I think he knew it would travel further if it stayed where it landed.