Article by
Elizabeth Fitt
Director – F for Flowers
Meredith Street,
London EC1
www.fforflowers.co.uk
Elizabeth@fforflowers.co.uk
So – Who’s Getting All The Flowers?
Bouquet of red flowers
Really though – no one ever gave me a hundred roses of a Thursday afternoon (or any other time for that matter) and when did I ever get a proper bouquet from a man? Well, there was that time when I was 16 when my friend’s boyfriend’s housemate sent me half a dozen red roses on Valentine’s Day after we’d been to a One Minute Silence gig and I had suitably impressed him with my black lipstick and moshing capabilities (I know I know, you’re probably thinking, no wonder this girl doesn’t get sent flowers, black lippy is hardly conducive to that sort of behaviour – but I can assure you that I ditched the black lippy and my penchant for metal almost a decade ago now and still no flowers).
I can sort of understand why no one’s given me flowers for the past few years – I’ve been a florist for a while and you wouldn’t give a baker a loaf of bread, would you? But even before that I was seriously devoid of floral gifts for years – I’d get the occasional bouquet from girl friends, and the odd single rose from men (that’s happened about 4 times and once it was the dad of a couple I was baby-sitting for who’d got drunk and picked his wife some flowers on the way home from a night out, then given one to me – hardly wildly romantic). Single roses are a cop-out anyway – “but they’re soooo romantic” I hear you say. No! They’re just a lot cheaper than a nice proper bouquet – I’ve had enough of this less is more rubbish, less really is not more, less is less and it shows. Oh, I’ve just remembered, I did actually get 2 proper bouquets from a man, but he was my Dad – one was when I got my A-Level results, just over 10 years ago now, and the other was when I came out of hospital following an operation – he also gave me a pineapple on that occasion.
God she’s a moaner, you’re probably thinking, but trust me, I see what some girls are getting on a daily basis, and it’s not a single rose I can assure you, neither is it from their Dad.
As I’m putting flowers together, I always wonder what prompted the man to call up and order a bouquet – sometimes it’s obvious – any inclusion of the word “sorry” in the card instruction is an obvious indicator of a guilt bouquet, as is a slightly frantic phone call demanding a dozen red roses to be delivered immediately - or the chap in question’s life won’t be worth living. It can be a bit cringe-making: “You make me so horny, you sexy beast,” for instance; it can be something intimate that only the giver and receiver know the meaning of: “Loving you, like the mouse loves the rice,” for instance; it can be something that the man thinks is subtle, but it really, really isn’t - “I know you love flowers, You know what I love…” or it can be just plain sweet - “Just to make you smile.” I must admit I’m somewhat relieved that there’s no one out there trying to swap flowers for sexual favours with me, but I’m rather less happy with the apparent lack of anyone out there trying to make me smile with flowers.