Two photos of a wrist showing a black lettering slogan about a bachelorette party with a red lips motif, one from each side of the arm.

Bachelorette party slogan on a wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two photographs show the inner wrist of one arm, with a text design in black lettering and red lips shown from each side. The left version reads 'It's my Bachelorette Party' with a red kiss mark, and the right reads 'I'm with Stephanie's Bachelorette Party', both ending with 'if found buy me a drink'. The black text is crisp against pale skin and the red lips add a bold contrast, so the colour is mixed.

Lettering Forearm Lip Slogan Text Drink

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The red kiss on the bus shelter glass had been there since midnight, and Dev Okonjo, who drove the late 43 out of Leeds on Friday nights, had long stopped wondering whose lipstick it was. He saw hen parties every weekend, loud as gulls, sashes flapping, a plastic tiara rolling under the seats. Tonight the noise came from the far end of the shelter, where a woman sat with her head against the timetable and a bottle of prosecco tucked under one arm like a rolled-up newspaper.

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He pulled in, opened the doors, and she pushed her wrist under his nose before he could ask anything. IF FOUND BUY ME A DRINK, it said in careful black capitals, with a red mark beneath it that had clearly been drawn in a hurry. 'Found,' she announced. 'I'm the bride. Don't tell Tash I got found by a bus.'

Tash, it turned out, was three streets back and eleven messages deep, and the rest of the party had gone on to a club on the canal without noticing the gap. Dev had a rule about not leaving people at stops after dark, and an older one about not taking money from drunk women. So he bought a bottle of water and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the garage across the road, and sat with her on the cold bench while she explained that her gran had once sung a whole Adele album at a christening.

When Tash's car finally pulled up with its hazards blinking, the bride pressed a crumpled twenty into his palm and said it was for the drink he'd have had if he were allowed one. Dev pocketed it, shut the doors and pulled away. In the mirror the kiss on the glass was still there, two red lips and a smear beside them, and the shelter looked, for a moment, like it had been kissed goodnight.