Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Art deco flapper profile on a forearm

Neo-trad · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A woman in profile wears a jewelled headband with a feather plume, a drop earring and a geometric beaded collar with chains. The bold black outlines and smooth shading give the figure a rounded, dimensional look against the skin. Turquoise, magenta, gold and pale grey dominate the palette, and the design is shown twice side by side in the photo.

Neo-trad Forearm Woman Profile Headband Feather Jewellery Earring Necklace Chain

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ada Vell was the last of the Harrow Brothers' Travelling Marvels still willing to climb the rope. The lions had gone to a farm near Lincoln, where they were paid for in hay. The big top had more mended canvas than original, and the band had lost its drummer to the navy. Each evening Ada put on the jewelled headband her mother had stitched from brass and blue glass, and pinned in the peacock feather the strongman had won at cards in Hull.

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Mr Harrow came to her wagon one wet October night with a ledger and a bottle of plum gin. The show would fold at the end of the season unless someone bought it whole, and a man from Birmingham had offered for the ground, the wagons and the name. "Sell me the headband," Harrow said, "and I'll see the rest is paid." Ada did not look up from her needle. "The headband was never mine to sell. It was lent to me by the woman who went up before me." He left the bottle on the step.

The next night the crowd was thin and the rope was slick with rain. Ada climbed anyway. Halfway up she looked down past the lamps and saw the Birmingham man in his good coat, Harrow with his hat in both hands, and the toffee boy staring up with his mouth open. She let go with one hand. The feather lifted in the draught and held there, and she turned slowly in the cold air, the blue stones catching every lamp in the tent.

The show was sold in the spring, the ground to a builder and the name to nobody. Ada took the headband to a pawnshop in Leeds and bought a room above a chip shop with the money. The toffee boy grew up to keep a stall on the market, and he always said a peacock feather turned up in his tin of barley sugar that winter, pressed flat, as if it had been waiting for him to notice.