What’s Your Flower Story

Hey Flower-Lover Friend,

Here's what we've figured out – every single person has a flower story. Maybe you've never thought about it that way, but stick with us. It might be your mom’s favourite flower and you decided to call your daughter that flower name in her memory, or that time someone surprised you with flowers just because, or maybe it's about that random wildflower you picked on a walk that somehow made you feel a little lighter that day. 

Your flower story might be happy, sad, nostalgic, or hopeful. It might be about love, loss, celebration, or just a really good Tuesday. It might be superstitious or routine. But it's there, blooming memories that remind you of your story and the people woven in that story. 

Flowers are sneaky little time machines, aren't they? One whiff of lavender and suddenly you're eight years old remembering your holiday on the South West Coast of Western Australia stopping at the lavender fields. One glimpse of sunflowers and you're remembering that perfect summer day in Europe with all the beautiful happy sunflowers pointing towards the sun. You smell a peony at the perfume counter in Mecca and boom, you're transported to memories of your wedding, where beautiful peonies were included in your bouquet.

It’s wild how flowers can stir something deep in us. They’re like little emotional messengers, holding space for our feelings, memories and some moments that shape us. Yes, they’re beautiful. But more than that, they remind us that change is natural, and every season matters, and to continue to bloom like you! 

Each flower story is different, maybe it is about connection. Like when words fell short, and flowers said something extra that needed to be said. A bouquet that whispered “I’m sorry”. Gerberas (daises) that said “you’re loved” from a friend when you needed it most. A Kangaroo Paw you brought at Kings Park during the Spring festival just because and to remind you to celebrate yourself. A nudge to bloom exactly as you are.

Your flower story might not be about receiving. Maybe it’s about giving. Like you picking wildflowers for your daughter just because, or surprising your best friend with her favourite blooms after a hard day. Maybe it’s about growing them. Watching something bloom from seed to spectacular, and learning to care for your own growth in the process.

Or maybe your flower story is about finding beauty in unlikely places. Like the dandelion pushing through concrete as you take your daily walk, reminding you that resilience is beautiful. That blooming doesn’t need perfect conditions. Or the flowers still standing in the middle of winter, quiet proof of resilience and growth. 

Flowers speak in meaningful ways. You might not remember every single bloom you’ve encountered, but some flower moments stay with you. They hold meaning, quietly, deeply.

So do yourself a favour. Ask yourself, “what’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think, what’s my flower story?” 

What bloom makes you stop and smile every single time? Which flower takes you back to a moment that mattered? What's the story behind the flower that somehow became part of your story, the one that reminds you to bloom like who you are?

For me, a few come to heart.

The first memory was back in primary school on Valentine’s Day. The teachers had arranged roses for the boys to give to the girls. I was buzzing with excitement we all were, thinking I’d be handed one. But I didn’t receive a single rose. Most of us didn’t. One popular girl ended up with what felt like a whole bouquet of single-stemmed roses. I was sad.

When Mum picked me up, I told her everything. She listened, then stopped by the florist on the way home and bought me a single stem rose. Just for me. I was delighted. 

My mum had a floristry business, and she’s the reason I fell in love with flowers and have combined my love of flowers, bags and beautiful design to create Anema. Our childhood garden was full of roses she worked hard to care for. They weren’t delicate, though — they were strong, full of thorn, stubborn and smelled of beauty. 

Then there’s the time I met my now-husband. On our first trip away together, down to Margaret River, Western Australia with friends, he brought me a bunch of dried native blooms from the region, he knew I love native flowers. I still have them today in a beautiful vase from a local poetry artisan. A quiet keepsake. A memory in full colour.

Keep blooming,