Small fine line tattoo of a pink bow with black scrollwork on the ankle of a bare foot, with toes visible above.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small pink bow and scroll tattoo on an ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Mixed · Photo

A close photograph of a small tattoo on the ankle of a bare foot, with the toes raised in the frame. The design combines black outlined swirling scrollwork with two solid pink shapes resembling a bow. The linework is thin and clean, with the pink areas filled in and the background of the photo dark and out of focus.

Fine line Ankle Bow Scroll Swirl Pink

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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 hall smells exactly as it did in 1998, floor polish and tepid squash, and you stand by the trestle table with a name badge stuck crooked on your jumper, reading the names of people you once sat beside. Nobody has written your name in capitals. Lorraine Pike has, in purple felt tip, and then drawn a little curl beneath it, the way she used to on every exercise book she owned.

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She spots you before you spot her. 'You still have the ribbons?' she says, and you laugh, because you had forgotten entirely that you were the girl with the satin bows, pink ones from the market in Doncaster, one for each plait, bought by the half dozen with money from the paper round. Lorraine says she watched you in the dinner queue every Wednesday and thought the bows made you look like you were on your way somewhere important.

You talk about Mrs Haddow, who once made you unpick a bow during assembly, and about the scrollwork on the iron gates at the back of the playground, which you both copied into the margins of your maths books until the teachers gave up confiscating them. Lorraine has kept one of those margins. She unfolds a page from her handbag, soft as cloth, and there in biro is a bow with loops curling out from either side, the same shape she once begged you to draw on her wrist in Year Ten.

The music starts up, something from the charts you both swore you would never admit to liking, and she presses the page into your hand. 'Keep it,' she says. 'You were always the one who finished them.' You fold it once and slide it into your pocket beside the badge, where it stays warm for the rest of the night.