Black and white sheet of temporary tattoo designs reading No Regerts in bold, serif and blackletter lettering, shown in several sizes.

No Regerts lettering flash sheet

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

A sheet of tattoo designs repeating the words No Regerts in several sizes and typefaces, including a bold slab serif, a condensed serif and a blackletter style. The lettering is solid black on a white background, with a vertical blackletter version running down the right-hand edge. The layout is simple and evenly spaced, with no shading or colour.

Lettering Text Word Blackletter Serif lettering

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 mistake was in the copy, not the paint, though Mr Hollis blamed the brushes for a week. The order had come up from the cider house at Stoke Orchard in a hand so wobbly it might have been written on a ladder: NO REGERTS, for a board above the press-house door. I cut the stencils, laid the gold size and only then looked properly at what I had painted. By then the letters were drying in their neat black rows, every one of them wrong, and I was the boy who had let it through.

Keep reading

Mrs Pryce came down the lane on the last Saturday in August, with wasps in the windfalls and a basket on her arm. She stood in the yard with her head back and read the board slowly, the way the old read the banns. Then she laughed, a short bark that sent a blackbird off the wall. "Regerts," she said. "Well, who ever had any?" Mr Hollis started apologising. She held up one hand and told him to hush, the sign was paid for and the sign would stay.

She had three hundred trees and, by her own count, regretted perhaps two of them, the Foxwhelps her husband planted too close to the brook. The rest she had kept through two bad frosts and one flood that took the lower field. I think she liked the words for being a little foolish, the way you like a dog that has chewed your good boots.

That evening I climbed the ladder to check the gold had held. The low sun came through the trees and caught the blackletter down the right-hand edge, and the crooked E at the bottom of the board leaned out over the gate like a man waiting to be asked in.