Woman seen from behind with her hair in a bun, showing a black outline scissors tattoo across her upper back above a white lace-up corset top.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Scissors tattoo on upper back

Back · Black and grey · Photo

A woman is photographed from behind with her hands raised to her hair, which is pinned up in a bun. A large scissors design sits across the middle of her upper back, drawn in solid black ink with simple, bold outlines and no shading. The muted blue-grey backdrop and soft lighting keep the focus on the tattoo and the white lace-up corset she wears.

Back Scissors Woman Hair bun Corset

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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

Frost had furred the inside of the kitchen window by the time Marta Vell found the shears in the flour bin, where her father must have hidden them after the last quarrel with the wool buyer. Two blades, black-handled, the pivot gone loose. She turned them over in the lamplight and thought of the ewes penned in the lower field, their fleeces heavy and yellow with winter grease, and of the buyer's letter still propped against the teapot.

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Her father had always said a pair of shears cut both ways or not at all. He said it about everything: the hedge, the rent, his brother. Marta had not believed him until the morning she tried to take the thread from the old lambing jacket and the blades bit clean through the wrong seam, leaving the sleeve hanging like a torn flag.

So she sat up with the jacket and the shears through the long dark, unpicking what she could and cutting what she could not. By the time the cockerel started, the sleeve was a sleeve again, shorter by an inch and stitched with a crooked black line where the blades had gone astray.

The buyer came at noon in a car that did not like the ruts. He looked at the fleece, then at the jacket on the hook, then at Marta standing with the shears still in her hand. He paid the price she asked. Afterwards she hung the shears back in the flour bin, where they belonged, and found she was smiling at a pair of old scissors for the first time in years.