my day as an event planner…

Several months ago, a bride contacted me to do her wedding flowers.  We really hit it off, so she asked me to help her with the wedding planning.

I’ve never planned an event before, I usually go decorate with florals then head off for cocktails somewhere when work is done (good business strategy).  But she was persistent and I like new challenges.  So I became an event planner for a day.

I even wore all black, which I rarely do because it makes me look like a sad high schooler.

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For the florals, we did a color palette of blushes and whites.   Roses, peonies, hydrangeas and baby’s breath.

The reception took place upstairs at Antoine’s and looked incredible (I’m biased).  I set out place cards, centerpieces and little gifts from the bride and groom.  They’re both from Russia (now Floridans) and she had someone from back home (Russia, not Florida) hand paint little nesting dolls as thank yous.  I thought it was incredibly thoughtful and unique.

Everyone loved them, especially me.  She gave me one as a thank you for my event planning help.  Well, that and she paid me.

But I’m obsessed with my new little doll.

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It sits on our mail able so I can see it everyday.

when in bloom…

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As a florist

Let me begin again, I don’t care for the term florist.  So dated.

As a floral designer, obviously I’m pretty biased when it comes to flowers.  They’re all great.  Really great.

And I’ve gotten into gardening, so even rooted plants are great.   Clearly I’ve found my calling.

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But in terms of favorite flowers, in my opinion [IMO- I’m trying to learn the verbiage of the young, but might be a wasted effort since I’m talking about branches and gardening], nothing beats the flowering branch season.

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I lean towards quince every time.  I buy them in a bud stage, so they look just like dead branches.

And just when you start to think you have thrown your quince money down the drain, they start popping open, like little bundles of gorgeous pink popcorn.

flowers & ankle weights…

With three weddings and an event this weekend, I’ve had a long week of prepping flowers.

Beginning of week:

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here’s a glimpse of what my lovely studio looked like earlier in the week after one of my flower deliveries.

But to be honest, throughout the week it looks more like a flower explosion.

And on a side note, I had also decided to invest in some ankle weights (top right- which I meant to kick out of the way before taking this pic but they’re too heavy and I would’ve broken my foot).  I’m on my feet all day and had the bright idea that I could tone by backside and make flowers at the same time.  Logical.

Nope.  They’re 10 pounds and I can’t even lift 10 pounds with my hands, let alone my feet.  I basically just ended up standing in the same spot for four hours.

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{hydrangeas, blush roses, apricot ranunculus, wax flower and eucalyptus}

But thankfully, I’ve been released from my ankle weight prison and am headed out today to an elopement in the Quarter then a drop off of these little colorful cuties to a reception at Brennan’s.

orchid whisperer…

Several years ago, I decided I wanted to grow orchids.  They died.

Fast forward several years, I’m wiser, I drink slightly less (more?) and I am less fashionable than I once was (somewhere along the line leggings were introduced into the mix).  It was time.

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Plus, now I’m a floral designer.  All the orchid shaped puzzle pieces have fallen into place.

I am an orchid whisperer.

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Actually, I just have five orchids from Trader Joe’s  that have lasted two years.  I fertilize them.  When they don’t die, I give them tiny kisses.  And I put them in our sunroom.  Finally have a purpose for  that room.

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Once I felt confident I was past the point of murdering orchids, I have moved from Dendrobiums (in my professional orchid whispering opinion, the easiest to care for) and added Cymbidiums to the mix.

This one came from Whole Foods.  It’s all too easy, just throw an orchid in the cart while grabbing some eggs.

Today I went to Fresh Market to pick up coffee and walked out with coffee and a potted hyacinth.  The Boyfriend told me to stop buying plants, we’ll run out of living space and have to start sleeping out side where the plants actually go.

I’ll stop buying plants when we agree I don’t have to go to the grocery store anymore.

imaginary gardening…

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Much to the dismay of everyone that has ever met me, I’ve taken up gardening.

Thanks to Google, I’ve learned the difference between perennials and annuals.  Although sometimes I still need to look it up because I can’t keep them straight.  I still have to do “lefties” and “righties” on my hands to know direction.  Apparently, there’s just some things my brain won’t keep on retainer.

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But as my interest in flowers has grown, my interest in gardening has like-wise grown.  And I’ve been quite successful.  Until I planted some lavender and three days later is was dead.  That one’s not my fault.  I don’t know who to blame but it’s not me.  Three days seems a little record breaking.

So now I’m trying my hand at bulb planting.  I ordered Lily Trees, Daffodils (my complete least favorite flower ever created but they were free with Lily Tree purchase) and Poppy Anemone hybrids that will (hopefully) bloom in the spring.

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And these are some lackluster pictures of planted bulbs.  After planting over 100 bulbs, which oddly takes forever and in the end you have nothing to show for it, The Boyfriend came outside to bring me a cocktail.

Just kidding, there were no cocktails.  Apparently he only came outside to ask me, “why’s this imaginary garden taking forever?”

it’s all in the ribbon…

1 (1)I started to notice my obsession with Silk & Willow, a hand-dyed silk ribbon company, about a year ago.  I think it all began (as most things with me do) on Instgram.  It sounds bizarre, because all it is is ribbon, but they got me.

Every time they post a pic, I’m like ‘holy sh*t, look at that ribbon…’

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So I use it to wrap all my bouquets.

Like this one going out this morning over to the Monteleone.

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{Juliet garden roses, cafe-au-lait dahlias, blushing bride protea, burgundy ranunculus & smoke bush}

Because an obsession isn’t healthy until you can incorporate it into your everyday life.

www.leafandpetalnola.com

enchanted forests and large horses…

I recently had the honor of participating in a once-in-a-lifetime photoshoot at Audubon Park in New Orleans.

It involved a girl and her horse named Draco.  It also involved me learning I have a somewhat crippling fear of large horses.

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The photographer and bride wanted to go with a theme of “Enchanted Forest” so I went with a more natural, romantic look.  I thought it would be a good off-set to the super lush greenery of the park.

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Cabbage roses, dahlias and sweet hearts ranging in hues from ivory to blush to pinks.  With tons of greens all mixed for a bouquet and a flower crown.

And even extra flowers wired up for Draco’s mane and tail.

 

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I was sitting in the park with the photographer when the horse trainer gallops up all majestic-like n Draco.

The photographer casually asked if the horse, or giant stallion in my professional floral opinion, is calm and gentle (I think we were all a little antsy).

“No, his names Draco.  Latin for Dragon.  He’s pretty wild.”

Oh, well thank God.

Then while wiring flowers into his flowing mane (and simultaneously trying to control my breathing as to not fling myself into a full panic attack mode), I accidentally dropped a rose next to his gargantuan horse foot.

That rose is still there.  I sure as hell wasn’t going to throw myself on that grenade.

Enchanted Forest final pics to come….

my little flower darling…

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Since moving to Louisiana, I’d taken up floral design and had started working for a shop doing wedding flowers part-time.  It was something I had been interested in back in Texas, and now in New Orleans (since Fashion PR does not exist here) decided to pursue it.

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This week marks the second month I’ve branched out on my own (although to even begin this process it’s been at least several months in the making).  I will say this, for Louisiana to be such a laissez-faire environment (understatement) they sure make it a pain in the ass to open your own flower business.  You would have thought I was trying to sell medical marijuana the hoop-la I had to go through.

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But regardless of the flower politics, I’ve finally opened leaf + petal NOLA.  My very own floral design studio.

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Last night I made arrangements for a runway show/event at Anthropologie in Canal Place.  I decided on a very ‘Anthro’ aesthetic, vintage tins mixed with a colorful palette of flowers.

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So check out my new baby, Leaf + Petal NOLA

www.leafandpetalnola.com

@leafandpetalnola

white linen & flowers…

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Tonight is White Linen Night in the Warehouse District.

You roam, gallery to gallery, dressed in white linen and sip street cocktails.

Normally I’m a fit & flare dress and Marc Jacobs mouse flats kind of girl, but today I’m feeling more bohemian-ish.

And by bohemian, I mean I bought a linen tee-shirt at the Gap (not very bohemian) and am hoping not to pass out of a heat stroke traversing the streets of New Orleans.

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{freesia, dahlias, calcinaia and sweetheart roses}

To add to my Gap ensemble (why is everything always 40% off?), I created a little delicate flower crown of blushes and pinks. 

DSC_0041So, I’m off.  Cocktails are awaiting me.

And I hate keeping cocktails waiting.

 

plant jail…

plant jail 1The little flower shop where I’ve been doing floral design lately has been around for about 50 years.  And apparently it’s been that long since they made an attempt to clean out the attic.

Of course all sorts of bizarre things were uncovered but what caught my eye were the little “bird cages” made of metal and glass.  Extremely dirty glass.

So as they were being carting off to the dumpster, I begged for their release into my custody.

I loved them at first sight.

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When I was on the way home with my new treasures, I texted The Boyfriend that I was bringing home a surprise.  Upon seeing my surprise, I was informed that unexpected cheeseburgers were surprises, not dirty cages.  Clearly we have different definitions of the term “surprise”.

So I removed the glass and hosed them down.  Then I hosed them down again.  With forty years of accumulated dirt, you can’t be too careful.

Then I bought a couple of english ivy plants (my fave) to trail out of the sides.  I took a pic and sent to my mom and The Boyfriend.

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Her response: “Oh my gosh, I love them!”

His response: “Looks like plant jail.”