I spoke with a reporter for the New York Observer a couple weeks ago as she was finishing up a story on floral trends in Manhattan. It’s a fun, spirited story:
The cool, fluffy peony, so Mrs. Dalloway, is especially
perfect for women moving about in this season’s fragile, tissue-thin
flowered dresses. The women in them will look wonderful holding peonies
in their arms.
And this great comment on the other side of the vase life debate:
“People think flowers are supposed to last two
weeks—what the hell is that?” asked the Brazilian born Zezé, in his
shop on First Avenue at 52nd Street with the stone statue of Bacchus.
“Flowers is the moment you receive them, the moment you never forget.
After two, three days, who cares?” He then showed a Zagat mention about
how his orchids “last longer than most.” Like art, writing, food, the
whole matter of flowers is about not wanting to disappoint.
Also, don’t miss Gregory Dicum’s fine travel story about Dutch tulip country in the Times.
Sharp, massed beds are set in emerald lawns beneath big, newly leafed
beech trees. Tulips riot with billowing rhododendrons and azaleas,
wisteria cascades, late daffodils and pavilions of orchids and cut
roses. Peacocks wail in envy before the seven million bulbs.
Makes you want to be there, doesn’t it?