Colour traditional-style tattoo of a pink flamingo with a flower-trimmed hair bow beside a pineapple, a sunset and sea, inside a rope-edged teardrop frame on a calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Flamingo in a rope frame on a calf

Traditional · Calf · Colour · Photo

A pink flamingo wearing a flower and bow headpiece stands on sand beside a pineapple and a shell, set against a teal sea and a purple and orange sunset. The design is enclosed in a brown rope-edged teardrop frame, with bold black outlines, flat colour fills and small white highlights on the bird and sparkles in the sky. The tattoo fills the frame and is shown straight on against a pink and white background.

Traditional Neo-trad Calf Flamingo Pineapple Sunset Sea Shell Flower Bow Rope frame

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Dot, you will not believe what has happened on the front since you went home to Leeds. Tuesday morning a flamingo walked straight past my pineapple stall as if she had paid for the pitch. Pink as a boiled sweet, neck bent like a question mark, and a bow tied on the back of her head that someone had clearly fussed over. Mr Pellow from the travelling menagerie came puffing down the prom an hour later, shouting that her name was Gloria and she was not to be given bread.

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Gloria had slipped her rope while the van was being loaded. Mr Pellow said she had never once in eleven years stood still for a photograph, so the children of Bridport gathered round her by the shells and she posed for them like a film star, lifting one foot and then the other. I sold forty slices of pineapple that day on the strength of her, which is more than I managed all summer.

Pellow offered me a shilling a week to keep an eye on her, and I took it, because a flamingo on a public beach needs somebody who knows the difference between a sandwich and a gull. We have an arrangement now. She stands in the shallows at teatime, I sell the last of the fruit, and at dusk the sun goes down orange over the water and she tucks her head under her wing. I can still see the bow from the stall, sitting a little crooked. I am not going to tell Pellow where she sleeps. Some things are better kept off the postcards.