Colour neo-traditional tattoo of a woman in a flower crown, with monstera leaves and red roses, on the outer thigh.

Woman portrait with monstera and roses on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A stylised portrait of a woman with dark hair swept up and decorated with flowers, shown in profile against green monstera leaves. Bold black outlines define the face and clothing, with flat areas of blue, orange and yellow in the skin and red and orange roses along the neckline. The composition is centred and symmetrical, with the portrait filling the upper section and the roses forming a base below it.

Neo-trad Traditional Thigh Woman Portrait Flower Flower crown Rose Hair bun

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cobalt ran out on a wet Thursday, halfway across the forehead of the woman on the Lantern Street hoarding, and Ada Pell stood on the stepladder with the brush dripping and weighed her choices. Mr Haig at the ironmongers had promised a fresh tin by Friday, but the sheet had to be up by Saturday, when the new bus shelter opened and the council wanted something cheerful to look at while they waited for the 14.

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She mixed what was left with a little grey and told herself it would pass for evening sky. For the cheek she borrowed the orange from the bakery's old awning paint, which Mrs Oduya let her have for a loaf and a promise. Dorothy Mayhew from the florist's brought a bucket of chrysanthemums and two dozen red roses, insisting that a flower crown painted by hand was a sad thing and ought to be real. The monstera leaves Ada had copied from the glasshouse at the nursery, where the big split leaves had been climbing the potting shed for as long as anyone remembered.

On Saturday the sheet came off in a gust, and a crowd gathered at the shelter with their shopping. A boy asked why the woman's face was blue. Ada said the sky had lent it to her for the afternoon and she had been asked to give it back in good condition. Nobody argued. A man in a grey coat stood reading the little plaque at the bottom for a long time, then nodded at the roses as if they had said something to him.

On Monday the cobalt arrived, a full tin with a dented lid. Ada put it on the shelf above the paint pots and left it unopened, because nobody had asked her to paint over anything.