SHOP: The Secret Life of Flowers
Spring has officially sprung here in the UK and we’re celebrating with a collection of our favourite miniature blooms.
Does anyone else feel that palpable tang in the air when spring is slowly starting to make itself known? For me, there’s always one day in particular when I think: yes. It’s here. We’re out of the fog, and into the light. It’s hard to say exactly what it is about the air that’s different, short of the sunshine, which obviously increases the light and warmth after so many cold, dark weeks - but there’s something else. Something that permeates the air, making it feel lighter - like the earth has thrown off the heavy fur coat of winter and is starting to breathe freely.
I can’t put my finger on what this springy feeling is made of, or where it comes from - but I credit a large part to the spring flowers.
Spring flowers provide more than just their florid colours; they’re a symbol of life, of hope, of the joy that comes from a warmer, more sunlit world than the one we’ve been living in for the past few months. They’re miniature denizens of the sun-kissed joy to come, and their power to invoke lightheartedness and ebullience cannot be underestimated.
Daffodils: rebirth & new beginnings
Daffodils, £57
Take daffodils, for example: in my opinion, the quintessential spring flower. Why is that? It’s not just that they bloom towards the end of winter or the beginning of spring; I won’t accept that it’s just a question of timing. Daffodils are the epitome of sunshine and warmth. Yes, they’re yellow - and a strong, hearty, glowing yellow at that, not just a pale custard shade - but they’re also open. Their petals almost seem to fling themselves back to reveal the heart within; they don’t hold back. They’re not guarded and cold. They’re present, and they’re unapologetic in their triumphal blossoming. It’s as if they’re the heralds of spring: which, in itself, heralds a new season of growth and life. Daffodils invite us in, just as spring invites us outside to bask in its warmth. They’re an open invitation to joy.
Crocuses: Joy & hope
Crocus, £5
And then there are crocuses - smaller in both size and stature, but no less apologetic. Take the purple crocuses - those with the orange hearts (also known as pistils, but I prefer hearts). Purple and orange shouldn’t be two colours that complement each other (I’ve always found the combination offensive anywhere that’s not floral-related); but somehow, it works. It’s a bold wardrobe choice, but the crocus pulls it off in a way few of us can. Seeing such an outlandish colour pairing after a world of greys, whites and indiscernible fog is a treat both for the eyes and - inexplicably - the colour palette.
Tulips: perfect, deep love
Tulips, starting from £3.16 per stalk
There are the tulips, standing tall and proud with an almost breathtaking uniformity. I always find that tulips have the most “artificial” look (through no fault of their own, I should add). It’s almost as if the Queen of Hearts has patrolled all the tulips in the land, dripping paintbrush in hand, applying to them the individual colours of her choice. Their colours are so strong, so decided - it’s hard (but not impossible) to believe that nature can produce such definitive palettes.
Bluebells: Humility, constancy, gratitude & everlasting love
Bluebell kit, £4.25
Bluebells - possibly my favourite flower in existence. I love the sense of community that’s so inherent with bluebells - the way they come together to produce that rippling, fulsome carpet of petals and a hue of blue that could rival the clearest Caribbean sea.
Snowdrops: Innocence & purity
Snowdrops, £95
OOAK by Jennifer Khan
Snowdrops - it’s not all about colour, despite the impression I may have given this far; the humble snowdrop is, in my opinion, a deeply underrated flower that always gives the impression of having battled the elements (which, technically, it has) to achieve its standing as a pristine, soothing accompaniment to the riotous embellishments flowering elsewhere. Snowdrops are restful and resilient at the same time - they’re empowering, an example of what tiny things can achieve in the storms and rains of life.
The Devil Wears Prada’s Miranda Priestly would have us believe that florals for spring are as far from groundbreaking as it gets. But I disagree. Long live the florals - they’re a treat we all need. This year, we need them more than ever.