Two pairs of legs rest on an inflatable pool float, showing pink bow tattoos with small cartoon faces on the knees and traditional-style rose and banner tattoos on the thighs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pink bows and roses on bare legs

Traditional · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

Two pairs of bare legs are raised against an inflatable pool float decorated with a princess print. Two matching pink bows with small cartoon faces sit on the knees, and on the right leg a red rose and a banner with a small dark figure are outlined in bold black lines with flat colour fills. The composition is a casual overhead shot with a tiled poolside floor and a polka dot bikini visible at the bottom.

Traditional Thigh Rose Bow Cartoon character Banner Leg

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The left bow had never forgiven the right one for being tied first. They had come off the same spool of pink satin at Mrs Fairweather's shop on Parrot Lane, cut on the same bias, yet the right one always claimed the better place on the counter, nearer the window where the pigeons could see it. So when the carrier was sent to number nine with two bows wrapped in tissue, the left bow sulked the whole way down the lane.

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The bows were meant for the twins, Dilys and Mo, who took ribbons more seriously than anyone in the street. Dilys tied the right bow to her knee on a Sunday and the left to her cousin's, and that was the arrangement until the cousin moved to Penzance. Nobody asked the bows what they thought. They sat there with their painted faces, wondering why they had been made so cheerful when nothing ever happened to them except the mangle.

One wet afternoon the tissue came loose and the left bow saw, pinned to the lid of a biscuit tin, a banner of red roses and a small black cat with its tail curled like a question mark. It was the only thing in the house that looked as bored as they were. The left bow said so. The right bow said nothing, which was how it knew it was going to follow.

They crossed the lane together by the gutter, sharing one knot at the end of a loose thread, and by the time they reached the harbour wall they had stopped arguing about who went first. You cannot quarrel properly while you are being dragged along by the same piece of string.