Colour botanical sleeve tattoo of lilies, fuchsia and magnolia blossoms on a woman's shoulder, upper arm and forearm, in a neo-traditional style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lily and blossom sleeve on upper arm

Botanical · Shoulder · Colour · Photo

A woman's arm and shoulder are covered by a full floral sleeve. A large white lily with yellow stamens sits near the shoulder, with purple fuchsia-like blooms, pink magnolia flowers and green leaves running down the arm toward the elbow. The bold outlines, soft shading and pale wind-like streaks give it a painterly, colourful finish against a black background.

Botanical Neo-trad Shoulder Upper arm Forearm Lily Magnolia Flower Blossom Leaf Sleeve

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind came down off the moor the week before Whitsun, and by Thursday every magnolia on Mill Lane had lost its nerve, dropping pink petals onto the pavement like wet paper. I was up a stepladder in Father's glasshouse, tying back the last of the lilies, when the door banged open and let in a gust that set the whole place rattling.

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We had three white lilies that year, the first forced bulbs anyone in Calder Bridge had managed, and Mr Pargeter had already sent word that the Whit Fair judges would be looking for one bloom above all others. Father said the prize was only a cup and a bit of print in the Gazette, but he had not slept properly since March, and neither had I.

The trouble was the fuchsias. Old Mrs Haig had given us the cuttings in a biscuit tin, wrapped in tissue, saying her husband had carried them home from Penzance the year before the war. They had sulked all spring. Then on Friday morning, while the wind worried at the glass, I found one purple bell on the bench, opened wide, its stamens dusted gold from the lily beside it where the gust had shaken them together.

I took the bloom to Mrs Haig's back step that evening. She did not ask why I had come. She just held the tin open and told me to put it back in the tissue, gently, the way you'd fold a letter you meant to keep.

On Saturday the lilies stood in Father's best vase, unentered. I pinned a fuchsia to my coat and walked down the lane, and the wind took the petals off the magnolias and carried them over the wall after us.