Gamago Fingerstache temporary moustache tattoo on a finger, shown in its clear blister pack beside a card of black moustache designs.

Temporary moustache tattoos in Gamago packaging

Hand · Black and grey · Flash

A hand in the top of the packaging shows a black moustache design applied to a finger. Below, a white card lists sixteen moustache designs drawn in solid black silhouette, each with a name in teal text, and two long double moustaches at the bottom right. The composition is a product shot on a wooden surface with a dark wood background, with the colour limited to black, white, teal and skin tones.

Hand Moustache Temporary tattoo Finger Hand Flash sheet

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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 scanner at Lowther Gate had learned my face by the third week of the Thaw, so I stopped trusting it with anything more than a glance. Tomas, who ran the depot kiosk, slid a card across the counter with sixteen moustaches printed on it in silver ink, the way a grocer offers samples. "The Prospector," he said. "Nobody looks twice at a Prospector." I peeled one off, pressed it onto my forefinger and counted to thirty while the adhesive took.

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The parcel under my coat weighed about as much as a loaf and had to reach Rich Uncle in Sector Nine before the midday bells. Rich Uncle was not his real name, and he was not really anyone's uncle, but he paid in good tea and never asked what was inside. I walked past the gate with my hand loose at my side. The guard, a bored woman with a cold, glanced at the screen, then at my finger, then at the screen again. She waved me through.

It was the Dandy I should have chosen, I thought, halfway across the bridge. The Dandy would have sat on a face like a waistcoat button and nobody would have remembered it. But the Prospector had worked, and the Prospector had a sort of quiet dignity, so I kept him on.

Rich Uncle opened the door before I knocked, looked at the parcel, then at my finger, and laughed until he had to hold the frame. He handed me a single cup of tea and a second sticker, the Villain, its curls already unpeeled and waiting. "For the way back," he said. I stuck it on the next finger over and went home the long way, the scanner blinking green at a man it no longer recognised.