Woman seen from behind in a black lace open-back bodysuit with a small dark tattoo on her upper back near the shoulder blade.

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Small tattoo on upper back, black lace bodysuit

Back · Black and grey · Photo

A woman is seen from behind, sitting before an ornate mirror with her hair in a braided updo, wearing a black lace bodysuit with a keyhole and open back. A small dark tattoo sits on her upper back near the left shoulder blade, but its design is too small and indistinct to make out in detail. The image is mostly warm brown and black tones, with the tattoo appearing to be in black ink.

Back Tattoo Lace Updo Mirror Upper back

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sleeves were due at the Bryant house by Friday, and Ada was still unpicking a knot from the third cuff when the bell over the workroom door rang twice, which meant Mr Sallis had come himself. He stood on the threshold with his hat in his hands and looked past the lace to the tall oval mirror leaning against the back wall, the one with the gilt cherubs that had come up from the pawnbroker's in a crate of old stock.

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"Your mother drew that pattern," he said. "The vine. I want it worked along the back of the gown, where the light falls." Ada knew the vine. Her mother had pricked it onto card forty years before, a single trailing stem in dark thread that never went where you expected, looping back on itself like a sentence that refused to finish. Nobody had ever worked it on a full piece. It was too fine and too close, and the needle slipped if you rushed it.

She worked it at the vanity table by the window, where the mirror could show her the reverse of each stitch. That was her mother's rule: never trust the front of the lace, only the back, where the knots lay bare and honest. Each evening the vine grew a little longer in the glass, backwards, until one night she found she had stitched past the end of the card and the stem kept going, curling up toward the edge of the frame in a line her mother had never drawn.

She cut the thread at dawn. Mr Sallis collected the gown in a hansom and paid without examining the work. Ada put the card away and never did find where the vine ended, though she checked the mirror every morning for a month, turning her head the way her mother had taught her, to see what the lace would show when nobody was looking.