Two bare thighs in black and grey, with a lace-style linework band on the left leg and a rose, sunflower and animal face on the right thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rose, sunflower and animal tattoos on thighs

Botanical · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

Two bare legs are seen from above, seated outdoors on a bench with a dark lace fabric across the lap. The left thigh carries a black linework band of lace-like scallops, wavy lines and small star shapes. The right thigh has a shaded black and grey composition of a large rose, a sunflower and an animal face with a detailed eye, with soft tonal shading.

Botanical Realism Thigh Rose Sunflower Lace pattern Flower Linework

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fox had come to the fair in lieu of a debt, and nobody ever found the man who owed it. You found it at the back of the dodgem trailer on the last Sunday in August, wedged between a coil of cable and a tin of brass polish, its glass eye catching the light from the generator. Mr Havers said it had been won at cards in a farmhouse near Ashford. Mrs Havers said the farmhouse had been empty for years.

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The fair was packing up the next morning, and there was no money to pay the lad who ran the swings. You carried the fox to the ticket booth, where the bunting was already strung with black lace salvaged from a bride's gown gone mouldy in the damp wagon. You wiped the dust from its muzzle with your sleeve and found a ring of tiny stitched roses along its collar, a pattern that had never been on any fairground stock.

Ruth from the candyfloss stall came out to watch. She said a sunflower only grows where someone has planted it, and that the fox was looking east toward the Medway, the way the caravans always went home. You thought she meant the weather. By dusk you understood she meant you, because the seeds you had been spilling from your apron had sprouted in the wet sawdust under the Ferris wheel, and the stalks were already taller than the swings.

On the last night you sold the fox for a shilling to a boy with a sunburnt neck, and it rode out of Kent on his mother's back seat. Years later you walked past a garden in Tonbridge and saw a sunflower leaning over the fence, its head turned east, and you tipped your hat to it the way an old showman tips his hat to a rival.