Colour tattoo of a sugar skull style cat face with green eyes, surrounded by flowers and paw prints, on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sugar skull cat with flowers on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A cat face in a sugar skull style fills the centre of the image, with patterned markings across its forehead and cheeks and green eyes. Bold black outlines frame the design, with swirls, paw prints and orange, pink, purple and blue flowers around it. The tattoo is fully coloured and sits on the outer thigh, photographed in soft, even light.

Neo-trad Thigh Cat Sugar skull Flower Paw print Swirl

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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 of marigolds and scorched sugar, and the band has been playing the same waltz since nine. You keep counting the paper flowers strung along the rafters, because counting is easier than looking at the cat on the edge of the bandstand. She is grey as wet slate, with green eyes lit like traffic lights, and the painted swirls across her cheeks look freshly done, as if someone spent all afternoon on them with a fine brush.

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Teodora, who keeps the door, says the cat came in with the rain and has not once been asked to leave. "She is somebody's grandmother," she says, "and tonight she wants to dance." You laugh, and the cat turns her head at the sound, unimpressed. Then the fiddler lifts his bow and she steps down from the stage onto the boards, paw by paw, and the crowd shuffles back to make room.

She dances with nobody. Her paw prints bloom on the dusty floor in pink and orange, one after another, and wherever she lands a marigold seems to open. You follow the trail with your eyes until it reaches you and stops, and she sits at your feet and waits, with the patience of something that has already waited a hundred years for a partner who will finally look down.

So you hold out your hand, palm up, and she sets one paw on it, cold as a coin. The music slows. Nobody in the hall mentions the dust on your shoes or the cheap cider going warm in your glass. When the song ends she is gone, and on the floor there is only a single blue paw print, bright as paint, which you do not step on.