Close view of an arm with white ornamental and daisy-pattern temporary tattoos on the upper arm and a lace-style band at the wrist, beside a silver hand chain.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

White temporary tattoo bands on an upper arm

Botanical · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A woman's arm shows two bands of white metallic temporary tattoos: an ornate, scrolling pattern on the upper arm and a row of daisies below it. A lace-style white band sits at the wrist, and a silver hand chain with a small disc is worn on the hand and wrist. The shot is warm and bright with a pale, sunlit background, and the ink is white rather than black or coloured.

Botanical Upper arm Forearm Hand Lace Daisy Flower Ornamental pattern Temporary tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sea had been flat for nine days, and Nell Carrick had counted the stencils twice. Thirty-one sheets of waxed card, cut by her mother in Honiton with a bradawl and more patience than anyone aboard the Halcyon Mary deserved. The white paint was the last tin from Plymouth, and the heat had thickened it until it clung to the brush like cold porridge.

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The passengers paid a shilling a band to have their arms dressed for the captain's dinner, and the older ones asked for daisies, because daisies were what they remembered from the hedgerows at home. Nell painted them in a row of six, each petal a single stroke, a yellow dot pressed in with the handle of a spoon. Her mother had taught her that a pattern needed room to breathe, so she always left a gap the width of a thumb between the flowers and the scrollwork above them.

On the ninth night a boy from steerage came up with a silver chain he'd bought in Gibraltar and asked her to paint the wrist where the links would sit. She did. The paint dried in the lamplight and the chain lay across it like something caught in a net. He didn't say thank you. He held his hand up to the moon and turned it slowly, the way you'd check a letter for water stains.

By morning the wind had come round. Nell rolled the stencils into a tin and carried it to the rail, where a grey line of land was showing. The white would flake off within the week and the lace would go back to plain skin. She kept the spoon anyway, because a row of daisies was always going to be wanted somewhere further on.