Four-panel photo of a black lace garter tattoo with a pink shaded bow on the upper thigh, shown from front, side and back angles.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pink bow and black lace garter on a thigh

Thigh · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo wraps around the upper thigh as a black lace garter band with a floral and diamond-lattice pattern, topped by a pink bow with a long trailing ribbon on the left. The lace is drawn in fine black linework with solid black areas for depth, while the bow is shaded in pinks and mauves with soft highlights. The collage shows the design from four angles against a plain light wall, with the bow appearing in the first and third panels and the back of the band in the fourth.

Thigh Bow Lace Garter Ribbon Flower Lattice

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pink ribbon had been Marjorie's idea, and by the second week of September Ada was sick of hearing about it. The boarding house on Marine Parade smelt of wet deckchairs and boiled cabbage, and the landlady, Mrs Pruett, counted the towels twice each morning as though the sea might have stolen one. Ada had come down from Leeds with a single suitcase and a letter she had not yet shown anyone.

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On the Thursday the wind came round to the west and the pier band packed up early. Marjorie sat on the end of Ada's bed with a tin of lace trim on her knee, pulling the threads straight with a hatpin. "You can't go to the Tuesday dance in a plain stocking," she said. "Not with him looking." Ada did not ask who he was. She had seen him at the bandstand, a lanky boy from the lifeboat station with a laugh you could hear over the trombones.

She wore the lace garter high on her thigh that evening, under her good blue frock, and tied the bow twice because the first one came undone when she stepped off the stairs. The ribbon trailed down past her knee and caught on the banister rail, and for a moment she stood still and could not move. Then Marjorie laughed, and so did she, and they went out into the warm dark with the sea rolling in beyond the railings.

The letter stayed in her coat pocket all night. She never did show it to anyone, but she kept the lace, and years later, when she packed up the house in Leeds, she found the hatpin still tucked inside the tin.