Neo-traditional tattoo of a bouquet of blue and pale flowers tied with a ribbon, on the upper arm, with partial tattoos visible at the edges.

Blue flower bouquet tied with ribbon on an arm

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A bouquet of blue flowers with pale cream blooms and a closed bud is tied at the stem with a black-outlined ribbon. The bold black outlines and smooth shading give the flowers a dimensional, neo-traditional look, with green stems and leaves. Partial designs, including a profile and a fan shape, appear at the edges of the frame.

Neo-trad Botanical Upper arm Bouquet Flower Ribbon Leaves Stem Bud Fan Profile

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ferry was late again, so I sat on a bollard outside Partridge's chandlery and finished the bouquet across my knees. The morning glories had come in on the Penzance lorry overnight, their trumpets still folded tight as fists, and I had blue lobelia and a few sprigs of speedwell to hide the wire. Ada Penhallow wanted them in the Harbour Row window by nine. She had paid me in coppers and a promise to keep quiet about the price.

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Nobody in Porthkerris ever bought flowers for a ferry arrival. They bought them for weddings, for funerals, for the Sunday the lifeboat came back a man short. I had sold to all three from the same barrow for eleven years, and I knew by the set of a customer's shoulders which one it would be. Ada's shoulders had been quiet all week. I tied the stems with black ribbon, the good stuff from Falmouth, and pulled the bows loose so they would look careless. Careless was what Ada had asked for.

The ferry came round the breakwater at twenty past. Gulls lifted off the rail, and a girl in a yellow mac stood up at the bow with one hand already raised against the glare. I knew her before I knew I knew her. She had been fourteen the last time she left, with a fan of scallop shells in her pocket and a lie about where she was going. Ada did not wave. She stood very straight beside me on the quay, holding the bouquet out in both hands like something that might spill.

The girl came down the gangway slowly. When she reached us the morning glories had begun to open, one blue throat at a time, and the cream petals caught the light off the water. Ada said nothing. She only pressed the flowers into the girl's arms and turned back towards the town, and I stayed where I was, counting coppers I did not need to count.