It’s my anniversary. I was married September 5, 1981. The ceremony was at my grandma’s church. The reception in my parent’s backyard. And the dance was at the local country club. I wore white and carried a bouquet of white, blue and yellow blossoms.
As the eldest daughter of an eldest daughter of an eldest daughter*, the roller coaster of planning sometimes was well out of my hands; however, the flowers were important so I spent a lot of time thinking about what to include. (*Grandma S was an only child, so in theory she was the eldest daughter).
Lots of flowers had meanings to me. Grandma S loved gardenias. My new father-in-law had a soft spot for white lilacs. I wanted lily of the valley because I loved the smell. I also wanted carnations because that is what DB always gave to me. Mom suggested that blue blossoms like anemone or bachelor’s buttons to go with our color theme might be nice. Yes… lots of Spring flowers for a Fall wedding.
The first two florists we visited informed my sister, mother and me that bride’s bouquets should either be white or variations on white that only bridesmaids got color. Aren’t you glad that tradition died in the 80s?!
In the end we found a resourceful florist who found greenhouses that supplied “out of season” flowers year-round and where she couldn’t source those she supplemented with near-miss, very similar flowers available in the Fall. In fact she even sprinkled a few really fancy silk flowers in with the real flowers just so I could have all the different kinds of flowers I wanted.
Now as I listen to coworkers and friends’ children plan weddings the choices for flowers and arrangements are so amazing. They are like pieces of art. I have to bite my tongue to not grumpily remind them that it wasn’t so long ago that the choices seemed to always include roses, carnations, baby’s breath and fern leaf.
So who’s your favorite florist?