Pencil and pastel drawing of a girl with a long braid and a mint pony with rainbow mane on her shoulder, shown as a tattoo design.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pastel unicorn pony tattoo design with girl

Shoulder · Colour · Flash

A pencil drawing of a girl with a long side braid and large eyes, with a pastel mint unicorn pony design across her shoulder and upper chest. The pony has a rainbow mane and tail and is decorated with hearts, stars, an ice cream cone, a cupcake and a bow. Soft coloured pencil shading sits over fine sketch lines on a plain white background.

Shoulder Girl Unicorn Braid Rainbow Ice cream Cupcake Heart Star Bow

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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

Now sit closer, you lot, and mind the stove, because this is the one about the pony that came down the cut in a bucket of paint. Nobody on the Oxford canal believed it until the spring of nineteen fifty-one, when Ada Pim took her boat, the Marigold, down to Braunston for the summer fair with her tins of enamel and her brushes wrapped in oilskin.

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She had a daughter called Nell who was nine and never stopped talking, and who wanted a pony on the cabin side. Not a horse, mind, a pony with a horn, the sort the Hollins girls had painted on their lunchboxes. Ada said unicorns were for shop windows. Nell said they were for anyone who asked nicely, and then she asked again at every lock from Hillmorton to Napton.

So one wet Tuesday Ada mixed mint green with a little rose and painted the pony with a mane of rainbow that ran off the edge of the panel. She gave it hearts for the cupboard door, a cupcake for the tail, and a tiny ice cream on a stick because Nell had licked one clean that morning. When it was dry, the pony looked back over its shoulder as though it had heard its name called from the towpath.

That night the boat rocked, the lock gates groaned, and somebody on the bank laughed. In the morning the paint on the pony's flank was wet again, streaked with colours that had never been in the tin, and a pink bow had appeared on its tail that Ada had not painted. Ada never touched that pony again. She said it had finished its job, which is the thing about ponies. They go where they are needed, and then they stop being painted and start being carried.