It’s time to revive the lost art of flower language.
These days, everyone wants you to “be direct” and “communicate like an adult,” but can healthy dialogue compete with the aesthetic charms of a bouquet hiding secret messages in its blooms? We think not.
We’re not wasting our time with a saccharine arrangement of red salvia (forever mine), aster (love and daintiness) and baby’s breath (everlasting love). No, we’ve artfully arranged the following bouquets to be weapons in a war of passive aggression and underhanded psychological jabs.
For your rude, overbearing mother-in-law
Can we suggest a cheery golden arrangement that reflects her worst traits and your feelings about them back at her? Combine orange lilies (hatred), marigolds (cruelty, contempt) and yellow carnations (disdain, disappointment, rejection) for a bundle of blooms that looks like sunshine but really means “I can only bear to put up with you on major holidays.”
For the coworker who steals all the credit
The next time your colleague claims one of your ideas as their own, congratulate them on their snakelike behavior with a bouquet of crab blossom (ill nature), tansy (hostile thoughts, declaring war), and narcissus (egotism). Hopefully keeping the flowers on their desk will bring about an unforgiving case of hay fever.
For the elected (or unelected) official taking away your rights
They certainly don’t deserve flowers, but if you’re too angry to speak, can we recommend a bouquet that gets your message of apoplectic rage across? An arrangement of dill (powerful against evil), geranium (stupidity), monkshood (deceit, poison words) and pink carnation (I’ll never forget you) should do the trick. You want them to know that you see what they’re doing and you’re never going to forget or let them get away with it.
For the low-level annoyances in your life
Perhaps hatred or a poisonous warning is too much for some people, but you still want to convey your irritation at their habits. Do they chew with their mouths open? Change lanes without using their blinkers? Listen to music in public without headphones? This one is for them. Take lupine (indignation) and combine with butterfly weed (let me go), begonia (beware), and chamomile (patience in adversity).
Share your own passive aggressive arrangements with us! And we’ll see you on Spinsters Row next time, sweet peas (departure, must you go?).
