Black and grey tattoos of a stormtrooper and Darth Vader, both wearing suits and leaning in a relaxed pose, on two forearms.

Stormtrooper and Darth Vader in suits on forearms

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two matching forearm tattoos show a stormtrooper on the left and Darth Vader on the right, each as a full-length figure in a suit with hands in pockets or at the sides. The figures are drawn with soft grey shading and fine outlines, giving the suits folds and volume. The tattoos are shown side by side against a plaid shirt, with a wristwatch on the right wrist.

Forearm Stormtrooper Darth vader Suit Figure Star wars Helmet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Ivy Kosmala had pinned hems for forty years in the back room of a shop on Harbour Street, and she had never once been asked to fit a man who could not take his helmet off. The first one came in on a wet Tuesday, tall and polite, his white armour dulled at the knees. He wanted a single-breasted grey suit for a christening in Whitstable, and he wanted the trousers cut long, because, he said, he had been told that the stance mattered more than the cloth.

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She measured him through the visor. He had a voice like a radio left on in another room, and he stood with one hand in his jacket pocket, hip cocked, as though he were waiting for a bus he had no intention of catching. On Thursday came the second, black-caped and silent, who had to be shown twice where the lapel went. He paid in cash, folded very neatly, and asked whether she could make the red tie a little narrower, like a blade.

They came back for the fittings on the Saturday, and the shears went quiet on the table. Standing side by side before the long mirror, they looked less like soldiers than two men who had been sent to collect a debt and had decided the view was nicer from the pavement. The one in white tugged his cuff. The one in black shifted his weight. Mrs Kosmala took a piece of chalk from her apron and drew a fine line along the hem of the grey trousers, the way she always did when she was pleased.

"Lean a little more," she told them. "Like you own the street."

They did. She took the pins out one by one, wrapped the suits in brown paper, and did not ask who was going to the christening.