When I woke up this morning, I wouldn’t have dreamt I’d be spending £130 in an Interflora shop. I am not much of a flower buyer. I don’t see their appeal, even as presents. I am not saying this to try and cultivate some sort of macho image (and let me assure you, my use of the word ‘cultivate’ is not supposed to be in any way an ironic ‘link’ to the subject I am discussing). The only thing me and Titchmarch have in common is our taste in jumpers.
It has always struck me that flowers are genuinely an odd thing to buy someone. It’s like saying, “Here you are - I have decided to articulate my feelings towards my relationship with you by buying something that slowly withers and decays.” It wouldn’t be so bad if the flowers that were commonly given as gifts were of the edible type, but they never are. To me, the purchase of flowers are the short-hand revelation of a redundant imagination. Should I be so devoid of a gift idea, I would rather spend my money on a present that is more practical, like a four-way plug adaptor.
If someone wants to see flowers, then why don’t they just go for a nice walk in a country park or some public gardens? Surely it is better to get some fresh air than gawp at something on a window-sill anyway. And even if the effort of walking seems too much, there are now lots of nice, traffic islands and embankments that are decorated with flowers, which can easily be viewed through the screen of a car. At least you do not have to maintain these flowers or go to all that kerfuffle of putting them in vases and the like to make them look presentable. Why spend money on something you can enjoy as a part of nature anyway? You wouldn’t buy six bottles of spring water for a present would you? And yet six bottles of spring water would serve as a much more practical gift. Especially if the recipient was a keen tennis player or was planning a picnic on a hot summer’s day.
I am such a romantic.
Nevertheless, I had to buy 31 small rose pots for an event today. They were for the tables of an awards ceremony we were hosting at work. Clearly I do not consider myself the best person to have been making this purchase. I simply do not understand the etiquette of flowers. This is not to say I do not appreciate the beauty of flowers, it’s just that I’m oblivious to the flower language. Apparently, different flowers are suited to different occasions. For all I know, I could have been buying bereavement condolence flowers, which would of course look completely inappropriate for a celebratory occasion in which awards were being handed out. I was also a bit worried that potted flowers might look aesthetically wrong plonked in the middle of a table.
I have always been this way. At school, we were once set an art homework in which we had to draw a plant in a pot. I failed my assignment , becoming the subject of class ridicule after drawing a flower in a vase. I genuinely didn’t realise there was such a significant difference between the two.
The table flowers I bought didn’t look too bad in the end, but this was more by luck than judgement. This has not raised my confidence and I still consider flower-buying as a minefield. Albeit a colourful minefield with some decorative blossom on it.
