So once again I have found my way back to floristry, or maybe it’s found its way back to me?
I grew up surrounded by flowers from a very early age. My mum started her business in her front room. Our lives were planned around weddings, our lounge a permanent display room, our spare room a workshop.
After many years of searching, Mum found her shop premises. And I got my own bedroom.
At 16, during an anxious and depressive collapse, my mum set me to work. A career which began with not being able to answer the phone soon turned into providing consultations to very recently bereaved families. It became clear I was rather good at this. By 19, I was helping run the business and was fully trained, although I consider myself to still be learning after 25 years of practice.
Motherhood arrived at 20 and I left the shop behind. In a way I felt I had something to prove. I had never wanted to be a florist, I wanted to be a pharmacist. I was stubborn and didn’t want my path to have been carved out for me. Floristry had gotten me out of bed when I was extremely ill. But I didn’t do it out of choice. So I kind of rejected it as a career, even though I was good at it.
Over the past 20 years, it has always reared its head – people have asked me to do their wedding, funeral flowers, Christmas wreaths – but I didn’t value my work.
I now find myself home-schooling my youngest child, and wanting to have a career of some sort.
And I’ve noticed the difference now is that I enjoy floristry. I’m finally doing it out of choice.
I had the very best teacher in my mum. Her work is meticulous.
I’m starting from home, just like Mum did. Her task was harder as she didn’t have the internet back then.
My lounge is now starting to resemble my childhood one. There are blocks of foam in the house again. My head is bursting with ideas.
I’m very much looking forward to helping create memories, whether it be wedding flowers, tributes to loved ones, or a ‘just because’ bouquet.
Perhaps our paths will cross soon.