Colour neo-traditional tattoo on the outer thigh showing a blue pumpkin carriage above a pink ball gown, with two mice, a bluebird and a blue bow in an ornate frame.

Pumpkin carriage and pink gown on thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

The tattoo sits within an ornate oval frame of scrolls and swirls and shows a blue pumpkin carriage at the top, a large pink ball gown on a dress form, and small cartoon figures including two mice, a bluebird and a seated figure with a teapot. A blue jewelled bow hangs at the base of the frame. Bold dark outlines and soft shading give the piece a cartoon-like character, with the gown and carriage in saturated colour against a muted brown-grey backdrop.

Neo-trad Thigh Bow Frame Scroll Teapot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pumpkin had begun to sag at the stalk by the time the hem was pinned, and Hester Quill, who had sewn for the squire's household for twenty years, said so out loud to the mice. "That is a carriage going soft," she told them. "You had better not be counting on it." The mice, Pim and Tallow, sat on the windowsill in their borrowed waistcoats and looked at the gown instead, which was the only thing in the room worth looking at.

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The gown was pink, the pink of a boiled sweet, and it stood on the dress form by the stove like a woman who had been waiting all afternoon. Hester had cut it from three bolts of silk the squire's wife had thrown out, a coat lining, and a length of ribbon the bluebird had stolen from the market stall across the square. Ottoline, the bird, had never once returned anything. She dropped a blue jewelled bow onto the form's shoulder now and gave a very rude whistle.

Her younger sister was to be married at the mill on Saturday, and nobody had asked for a fairy godmother, only a dress that fitted. The parish man had offered a coach with four white horses for a shilling, and Hester had sent him away with a cup of cold tea and a flea in his ear. She had spent nine nights at the bench, pricking her thumbs until they bled into the seams, and on the ninth night she bit off the last thread and found the dress was finished without any help at all.

On Saturday the carriage was a blue cart with a cracked wheel, and the mill girls cheered it anyway. Hester walked her sister down the lane in pink silk that would not turn to dust at midnight. The mice rode in the cart with the teapot wedged between them. "Well," said Pim, "that was a waste of a good pumpkin." The bride laughed so hard she had to sit down in the hedge, and the gown, which had been made by hand, did not mind in the least.