Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Leopard print and roses sleeve on shoulder
Botanical · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo
A sleeve tattoo covers the shoulder and upper arm, with black leopard print rosettes wrapping around the limb. Two shaded roses sit on the shoulder and near the elbow, rendered in soft grey tones with bold black outlines on the spots. The photograph is taken at an angle against a plain white top and a blurred indoor background, with the tattoo as the clear focus.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Dear Joan, The roses came from Mr Pryce's stall on Thursday, forty of them, and I had to tell him twice that they were not for a funeral. I also brought home the leopard silk from the Leicester market, a whole bolt of it, which I smuggled onto the 14 bus under my coat like contraband. Mum would have clutched her pearls at the sight of it, but Mum has been dead nine years and the silk is very much alive.
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The spots have been the trouble. Margaret Dunn, mother of the groom, has opinions about everything from the sherry to the hymns, and she says a wedding is no place for the jungle. I told her the jungle is exactly where roses grow best, in the shade of a hedge where the light comes through in pieces. I pinned the pattern to the dress form and the black rosettes ran round the bodice like a trail of spilt ink. Between them I stitched two grey roses, shaded with thread from the bottom of Dad's old tin, so that they look like they have been left out in the rain.
Margaret came to the fitting on Saturday with her mouth set. She stood in front of the long glass for a full minute, then asked who had cut the hem so true. I said it was the same hand that cut the sleeves, which is to say mine, and that the bride had chosen every spot herself over tea in February, pointing at the swatches with a biscuit in her hand.
Tomorrow the bride walks up the aisle in spots. I have sewn a small square of the silk inside the cuff where nobody will look, with my initials and the date stitched in black. Write when you can and tell me the hymns were not as dreadful as you feared. Your loving sister, Nan.
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