I design buildings. Towers, mostly — all glass and steel and structural mathematics. When I decided I wanted a bodysuit, there was never a question about the style. It would be geometric. Perfect bilateral symmetry. Every line calculated. No freehand. No organic forms. Just pure, rigorous pattern — the same discipline I apply to structures that hold hundreds of people above the ground, applied to the structure that holds me.
Why symmetry
People ask why bilateral symmetry. Why not asymmetric, why not organic, why not mix it up? Because my entire career is about precision. About things being exactly where they need to be. A column one degree off-centre isn't charming — it's structurally compromised. I want my bodysuit to have that same rigour. If the hexagon on my left shoulder blade is 43mm across, the one on my right must be 43mm across. Not approximately. Exactly. Marcus understood immediately. He works with a ruler, calipers, and a laser level. We spent four months on the blueprint.
Mood: Focused. This is a construction project.
The blueprint — 4 months of planning
Marcus and I have been meeting weekly. He's created a full-body map — every pattern, every intersection, every transition zone. The spine is the primary axis: a column of interlocking hexagons from C7 to sacrum. The sternum mirrors it on the front. Secondary axes radiate at 30-degree intervals. Every decorative element references this grid. It's exactly like designing a building — you establish your grid, then everything snaps to it. We've also solved the curvature problem. A circle on flat paper becomes an ellipse on a curved body. Marcus has pre-distorted every pattern so they read as geometrically correct to the eye, even though they're mathematically stretched on the skin. This is the part most geometric tattooists get wrong.
Mood: Intellectually satisfied. The maths is beautiful.
Sessions 1–2 — spine axis
The first needle touches skin and everything becomes real. Marcus starts at C7 — the prominent vertebra at the base of the neck — and works downward. Hexagon after hexagon, interlocking perfectly. He measures between each one. The ruler is as important as the needle. Two sessions to get the spine column complete from neck to sacrum. It's the foundation. If this is wrong, everything built on top of it will be wrong. When I looked in the mirror after session 2, I saw a line of perfect geometry descending my back. Like a zipper. Like a structural column. It's the most beautiful thing on my body.
Pain: 7/10 — directly over vertebrae. Bone pain.
Healing: Clean healing. The lines are sharp after two weeks.
Mood: Precision brings peace.
Sessions 5–8 — full back
Radiating outward from the spine axis. Tessellations expanding in complexity — hexagons near the spine, transitioning to Penrose tiles near the ribs, to Islamic star patterns at the flanks. Every piece mathematically derived from the hexagonal grid. Marcus is meticulous. He re-measures after every break. I've started photographing after each session and overlaying the images in Illustrator to check symmetry myself. It's perfect. The back is dense now — maybe 70% coverage with blackwork geometry. Standing in the mirror I look like a building facade. I mean that as the highest compliment I can give.
Pain: 6/10 — ribs when the patterns extend to the sides. The flat of the back is fine.
Healing: Consistent. I've optimised my routine: Saniderm 48 hours, then unscented moisturiser twice daily.
Mood: Meditative. Each session is like a long drawing exercise.
Sessions 12–15 — legs begin (symmetrical)
Both legs simultaneously. Left session, right session, left session, right session. Always alternating so neither falls behind. Marcus insists on perfect parity. The leg geometry flows from the hip — large tiles at the top, gradually reducing in scale toward the ankle. It mirrors how buildings taper. The structural logic is: larger elements bear more visual weight, smaller elements provide resolution and detail. By the ankle, the tiles are 8mm across. At the hip, 35mm. The mathematical scaling follows a logarithmic curve. I worked it out on paper and gave Marcus the dimensions for every row.
Pain: 5/10 — outer thigh is easy. Back of knee is dreadful.
Healing: Legs swell significantly. Wearing compression sleeves between sessions.
Mood: Systematic. Methodical. Enjoying the process.
Sessions 24–30 — legs complete
Eighteen sessions on the legs. Both complete. Bilateral symmetry verified — I photographed both legs from identical angles and overlaid them. The deviation is less than 1.5mm anywhere. Marcus is a machine. Or rather, he's a very precise human operating a machine. The legs read as architectural columns — tapered, structured, repeating. When I wear a skirt now, people stare. Not at the tattoos specifically — they stare because something about the proportions reads as intentional in a way that draws the eye. Geometry is attention management. That's true in buildings and it's true on skin.
Healing: Fully healed. Ready for arms.
Mood: Satisfaction. The lower body is complete.
Sessions 31–38 — left arm (golden ratio)
Left arm is based on the golden ratio. Spirals radiating from the elbow, expanding outward following phi (1.618...). Marcus drew the spiral in gold sharpie first — it wraps twice around the forearm and once around the bicep. The fill is dense mandala-inspired geometry, but every radial element spaces according to phi. The density increases toward the wrist. At the shoulder it's open — large gaps between elements. At the wrist it's near-solid, creating a gradient from light to dark that follows the arm's taper. People ask if both arms are the same. They're not. But they rhyme.
Pain: 8/10 — inner elbow and wrist. The forearm bones are brutal.
Healing: Arms heal quickly but the wrist area cracked during healing. Had to be extra careful.
Mood: Excited. Seeing the two mathematical families develop in parallel.
Sessions 39–46 — right arm (Fibonacci)
Right arm is Fibonacci. Where the left arm spirals according to phi, the right arm builds according to the Fibonacci sequence — 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21. The tile sizes at each row follow the sequence. Marcus and I debated whether anyone would ever notice the difference between the two arms. Probably not consciously. But subconsciously, the left arm reads as smooth and organic (golden spiral), while the right reads as stepped and rhythmic (discrete sequence). It's the difference between a ramp and a staircase. Both get you to the same floor. Different experience ascending.
Pain: 8/10 — same areas as left. No easier the second time.
Healing: Identical to left arm. Symmetry even in healing.
Mood: Intellectual delight. Playing with mathematical siblings.
Sessions 50–58 — torso unification
The torso is where everything connects. Legs to arms, spine to sternum. The geometry here is Islamic-inspired — eight-pointed stars and twelve-pointed stars forming an interlocking lattice. Each star sits at a node where multiple systems intersect. It's like a transport hub — all the routes meet here. The chest panels are the showpiece: two large mandalas with 12-fold rotational symmetry, one on each side, perfectly mirrored across the sternum axis. Eight sessions. The ribs were as terrible as everyone said. But the chest mandalas — watching Marcus build them point by point, radial by radial — was like watching a building rise. You see the structure emerge from nothing. First the centre point. Then the primary radials. Then the secondary geometry filling between them. Completion.
Pain: 9/10 — ribs. The chest itself was oddly manageable.
Healing: Torso is awkward. Can't sleep on side or front. Two weeks of back-sleeping.
Mood: Watching the whole system come together. Every new element makes every existing element better.
Sessions 60–62 — detail passes and completion
Three final sessions. Adding weight to certain lines for emphasis. Darkening transition zones between body sections. Checking symmetry one last time — Marcus with his calipers, me with my photographs and overlays. The final measurement: 0.8mm maximum deviation across bilateral pairs. For reference, most people can't perceive asymmetry under 3mm. We're four times better than the threshold of perception. It's done. Three years and one month. Sixty-two sessions. My body is now a geometric system — every surface covered in mathematically precise blackwork, bilaterally symmetrical, following a hexagonal grid that I established in the first week of planning. I am a building. I am habitable. I am home.
Mood: Complete. Like finishing a construction project that passed every inspection.
“Architecture is geometry made habitable. My bodysuit is geometry made personal.”
Looking back
People assume geometric tattoos are cold — mathematical, impersonal. I've been told I "turned my body into a textbook." But here's what they don't understand: every ratio was a choice. Every tessellation was a decision. The golden ratio on my left arm isn't arbitrary — it's because I think in spirals. The Fibonacci on my right isn't random — it's because I build in steps. The bilateral symmetry isn't rigidity — it's trust that the rules I set will hold across the entire system. That's not cold. That's the warmest thing I know. Trusting your own framework. Believing your grid will hold. It held. Three years, sixty-two sessions, and it held perfectly.
Summary
Total sessions
62
Total hours in chair
~310
Duration
3 years 1 month
Coverage
~88%
Symmetry deviation
<0.8mm bilateral
Technique
Machine (precision liner + shader)
Most painful area
Ribs — 9/10
Planning phase
4 months
