These are from Studio Choo in San Francisco. The folks at Saipua are the other flower gurus I'm crushing on right now-- day dreaming about becoming their apprentice in Red Hook and what not. Or attending their flower school(who even knew such a thing existed?!).
Enter the confessional...
I have been obsessed with flowers for a long time. A loooooooooonnnnnng time. I can still remember the best bouquet I ever put together: in London in 2003 to say thanks to a friend who was letting me stay with her during a layover. Best bouquet EVER, but I have no proof.
This is the only photo I have of a bouquet I put together:
Made for my god-daughter, Sawyer Eliza Witbeck, on the occasion of her birth and emailed to her parents (we were separated by a vast swathe of continent at the time).
Then there were the years I spent frequenting Church Street Flowers. A fabulous gay couple owns the place, a spunky girl with a weakness for Irish rugby players was behind the counter, and I came in weekly for gardenias and sandersonia:
Listen. Valentine's Day is an occasion that calls for a celebration of flowers.
So for all your ice-bound, slush-bound friends like me who live in rural outposts across America (where all the best flowers come from places like Mr. D's), go out and spend greenbacks on some floral beauty for your loved ones. They'll love you for it and we'll live vicariously through you.
Win win.
P.S. Today is brought to you by the letter S for SLEDDING!
Jaime slayed it on the lunch tray, the irrigation ditch claimed no lives, the bike baskets proved their mettle, and Meagan rode our mainstay, Snowblower, to glory over the world's smallest kicker. Go team.
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