Two colourful floral tattoos in a soft painted botanical style, one on the top of a foot and ankle and one on the outer hip and thigh, with a hand holding red fabric beside it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Painterly florals on feet and hip

Botanical · Ankle · Colour · Photo

The left pair shows matching floral designs on the tops of two bare feet, with red roses, pink blooms, orange poppies, white daisies, small red berries and green leaves. The right image shows a larger cluster of pink and peach peony-like flowers on the outer hip and thigh, blended with soft green and yellow washes. The shading is soft and blended with no hard black outlines, and bright colour dominates across both images against plain light skin and a red fabric backdrop.

Botanical Ankle Thigh Rose Poppy Peony Daisy Berry Leaves Flower

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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

Mrs Oyelaran had never let anyone hold a brush until they could draw a poppy with their eyes shut, so Nell spent her first winter at the kiln sketching the same orange bloom on the backs of old wallpaper offcuts. By March her poppies looked like poppies, but her peonies looked like wet paper that had been folded. Mrs Oyelaran tore them up without comment and fed the scraps to the stove.

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The commission came in April from a house on the edge of the fen, a woman who wanted her mother's garden painted onto china for her daughter's wedding. Nobody in the workshop had ever painted a whole garden. Nell spent three evenings with a tin of water and a single sable, letting a green wash bleed into a yellow one until the leaves looked like they were moving in a wind that was not in the room. The rose she left until last, because roses were what the family had asked for, and because a rose is only a rose if you let the edges go.

On the morning the plates went out, Mrs Oyelaran picked one up, turned it under the window and said nothing for so long that Nell began to pack the crate. Then she set it down, pressed a thumb to the bottom edge where the wash had pooled, and said, "You stopped where the colour wanted to stop. Most people keep going." That was the nearest thing to praise Nell ever got, and she kept the plate's twin on her windowsill for the rest of her life.