Colour tattoo of a Hello Kitty style face decorated with sugar skull flowers, a pink and orange bow and cobweb details, on skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sugar skull Hello Kitty tattoo

Colour · Photo

A black outlined cat face with a large pink and orange bow above, decorated with the patterns of a sugar skull. Inside the outline, blue, yellow, orange and purple flowers, dots, a small heart shaped swirl and corner cobweb motifs sit on a white field of skin. The black linework is bold and even, and the colour is flat and solid with no visible shading.

Hello kitty Sugar skull Bow Flower Heart Cat

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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

You are nine, and the Institute hall smells of hot sugar and wet coats. Aunt Maud has the mould tin open on the trestle, and the skulls she pressed this week sit in rows like teeth. The Day of the Dead stall is new this year, dreamt up by a lad from the pit school who came back from an exchange with a box of paper flowers and a notion. Nobody in Scarrow Row has ever bought a skull.

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You have been drawing cats on the back of the wages ledger since you could hold a pencil. Maud says skulls must grin, and a cat's grin is no grin at all. You tell her a cat grins with its whole face. So you pipe the outline in black royal icing from a paper cone, the way she taught you, and when the line closes without a wobble you feel a small, plain pride. The bow goes in pink and marigold. The flowers are blue and yellow, and a dot sits wherever a rivet would be on the lamp-room door.

Your father comes off the back shift at four, grey to the eyelids, and stands in the doorway with his helmet under one arm. He says nothing about the cat. He takes it from the tray and holds it up to the gas light, turning it slowly, the way he turns a lamp to check the flame is steady. Then he asks whether the flowers are the ones growing in the broken window boxes by the pit gate. You say yes. He nods, pays you a penny, and tucks the skull into his tin between his wage packet and the photograph of your mother.

Next morning the tin is still shut on the mantel, and when you lift the lid the cat is there, its bow a little cracked, its sugar face still grinning up at you.