Traditional style colour tattoo of a spider with a blue and black diamond-shaped abdomen and yellow-dotted legs, on an arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Spider with diamond abdomen on an arm

Traditional · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A large spider sits centrally, its abdomen formed by a faceted diamond shape built from stacked blue and grey triangles. The bold black outlines and flat blue, yellow and black fills are typical of traditional tattooing, with soft grey shading on the diamond and legs. The spider is shown symmetrically against smooth skin, filling most of the frame.

Traditional Upper arm Spider Diamond Gemstone Insect

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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 brooch came into the cloakroom in the pocket of a dinner jacket, which is where most bad ideas arrived at the Majestic Rooms. Ronnie Keal, who played sax for the Friday band and owed half of Leeds money, slid it across my counter wrapped in a cotton handkerchief. "Hold that till the interval, Nell. Don't let Sid see it."

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It was a spider the size of my palm, black enamel legs banded in yellow, its body a diamond built from stacked blue triangles like a pyramid of boiled sweets. Sid Harrow ran the door and fancied himself a detective. He once told me every paste stone in Yorkshire had a ghost underneath it, the real thing sold off years back. I turned the brooch over under the bulb and found the pin bent and the back scratched, which I took as proof of something, though I couldn't have said what.

Ronnie didn't come back for it at the interval. Sid came instead, sweating under his bowler, asking after a saxophone case and a man with a face like a spoiled pudding. I said I hadn't seen either. That was true enough. By the last waltz the band had run out of tunes that nobody minded, and the floor was a slow circle of shuffling couples under the glass globes. I pinned the spider to my cardigan, where its blue belly caught the light each time I turned. Nobody looked twice at a girl in a cloakroom overall with a bit of paste on her chest. I danced the last dance with Sid, and he never once looked down.