Black hand-lettered text reading Bride's bitches across the inner wrist and forearm, in a lettering style.

Bride's bitches lettering on a wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close view of a pale forearm and wrist with the words "Bride's bitches" in black brush-style lettering, the first line in capitals and the second in a joined script. The letters are solid black with soft, slightly uneven edges and no shading, and the skin looks plain with no other marks. The image is colour-neutral apart from a pink flower blurred at the left edge, and the wrist sits centre-right against a plain white background.

Lettering Forearm Word Slogan

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Marguerite, the shuttle from Penzance was late again, so I am writing this on the back of the seating plan, which Nell says is fitting, since the seating plan has caused more bloodshed than the Carrow feud ever did. You asked whether it is true that every bridesmaid at Tamsin's wedding had the same words brushed onto her wrist. It is true. Forty-one of us, done in a hurry at the harbour wall by a boy who had a tin of ink, a fistful of brushes and no patience whatsoever.

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The capitals went on first, bold and square, BRIDE'S, and then the boy ran out of nerve and Tamsin herself took the brush for the second line. She wrote the joined script the way she signs for parcels, fast and slightly cross. Her mother said it was vulgar. The vicar said it was a sin against good lettering. Tamsin said the vicar could come and be a bitch at the reception if he liked, and he did not, because his own sister was among the forty-one and had already sworn at him twice.

By evening the sea air had softened the edges of every word, so they looked like they had been written in wet charcoal on a slate. Nobody cared. We danced on the slipway until the lanterns guttered, arms up, wrists flashing black in the light, and nobody could tell which of us was the bride's and which was simply hers for the night.

Tamsin's own wrist was the last to fade, though nobody could say why. Give my love to the twins. I expect the next wedding will have a new slogan, and I expect I will be the one holding the brush.

Yours in ink, Bet