Three inner wrists pressed together, each with a small matching Sisters script tattoo beside a purple and teal feather.

Matching Sisters feather wrist tattoos

Lettering · Other · Colour · Photo

Three wrists are pressed together, each carrying a small matching tattoo of the word Sisters in black script beside a feather. The feathers are shaded in purple and teal, with one showing pink near the tip, and the black outlines and lettering are crisp. The photo is evenly lit, with the wrists filling the frame.

Lettering Other Sister Feather Script

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The barge was called Marigold Reach, and by the time Nell, Tess and I got her back upriver from Brentford, the paint on her roof had gone the colour of weak tea. Dad had bought her with money from the sale of the Tooting flat and never once taken her past Teddington. We had three days to make her sound before the surveyor came, and nobody had said who would steer.

Keep reading

Tess pressed her wrist against mine over the tiller to show she was taking the first lock. We'd had our tattoos done in one sitting, at Mum's insistence, a feather each with the word Sisters curled beside it in a hand that looked like it had been written with a wet thumb. Mine had come out purple, Nell's teal, and Tess had asked for a blush of pink near the tip, which the artist said would fade. She said she didn't care. When the gates groaned and the water dropped, our three wrists were the only dry things on the boat.

Halfway through Hanwell the ropes went slack and the barge drifted into the reeds. We sat on the gunwale with a flask and argued about whether Dad had meant to leave her to us or to leave us to each other. Nell wanted to sell. Tess wanted to keep her. I watched a heron stand in the shallows, unbothered by the three of us, and understood that nobody was going to decide for anybody.

At Cowley we tied up for the night. Tess pulled a folded letter from the cabin drawer, the ink fine and slanting. It was Dad's hand, the same loops as the lettering on our skin. Nell read the last line aloud: Take her as far as she'll go, and then decide. We looked at the water, then at each other, and the three feathers sat together on the oilcloth as if they had been waiting for us to notice.