Midsummer / Mid-year Hello

It’s been a while! And it’s been weighing on me. Last journal post: Feb. 7th, 2025. Oof.

To be honest, I haven’t had time or energy to post, or to journal. Between steering the ship of Molly Oliver Flowers through rougher financial waters than we ever experienced, and the daily heartbreak I feel with every headline I read – I have taken what free time I have to walk in the woods, get laundry or groceries done, rest with my two cats or play with my friends’ growing kids.


Before I attempt to wax poetic on where molly oliver flowers is at, and my evolving definition of sustainability (what's really been on my mind of late) it's hard to avoid naming the context within which we're operating.

It’s dizzying, emotionally taxing, still shocking in its brazenness - the ways this sham of a government (and now an abetting supreme court) is cheating everyday people out of their healthcare, safety, education, dignity… Tariffs, roll backs on clean energy, and one ludicrous lie after another. Today I heard someone call the tax breaks for billionaires “welfare for the rich.” And yet they don’t seem to believe in social services. Perhaps the most distressing is the division and the silos people are in, Fox News or Truth Social spinning harmful realities that drum up fear, paranoia, hatred and ultimately benefit corporate interest.

Is it any wonder I dyed my hair for the first time in 10 years? Brightening up my face, making a simple change that was within my power was helpful. I really get why all the girls are chopping their hair off. I'm on the verge!

A haircut to brighten my spirits, 2.11.25

The rising sun, my wonderful team of hardworking floral artists/nature allies, my community and the flowers keep me going. I’m encouraged by Mamdani’s win, mostly because his campaign excited and energized people. Roused them/us from what sometimes feels like a sleepwalker's living nightmare.

Goods for a Valentine’s Day Bouquet Workshop at Intuit back in February

The passage of the big ugly bill hit closer to home than usual (says this white, educated, highly privileged woman). I went on Medicaid last fall; it’s one reason I’m staying afloat. If it surprises you to hear that, don’t be; floral designers post glamorous photos but this is a blue collar job. Tiny profit margins that slip into the black or the red month to month. Rising costs of doing business due to untenable rises in costs of living. It’s a project I choose to work at and try to make succeed because I love working with flowers and the ways they communicate the nuances of life and speak in so many ways for our planet and that bigger mysterious knowing that humans can't seem to defer to; and because I’m passionate about sustainable farming as one solid slice of the pie that can provide a foundation for the future. I don’t do it for European vacations or gym memberships although those would be welcome, one day.

If I lose my health care, I do have cushion in friends and family. I have a B.A, and if the business fails I will figure something out. But most people rely on the social safety net of the common good. 

We made the NYT in Feb as well, talking up Tulips. Mark my words:)  

There are many interwoven layers to sustainability -- from the personal to the local to the global. This quilted aspect of sustainability is something I’ve been internally meditating on all year. And wanting to write about and lacking time for. And feeling into this question as a 44 year old, who's officially entered her 'fuck it 40s' (ever the late bloomer) and is breathing a sigh of relief to have begun to shed some impossible standards society sets for women, and any human frankly.

The dollars clients pass to me, for their subscriptions or wedding flowers, largely goes to hardworking young floral artists who make the beauty happen for our clients, and hardworking young farmers attempting to build American farms grounded in a healthy partnership with mother earth. Or at least healthier. (Between 25% and 30% of our event budgets go to the farmers for the raw product; another 30% to the designers who process, package, design, install, breakdown, clean up). This kind of mutual aid, investment in our local communities, economies and industries is one part of sustainability; direct investment into sustainable land stewardship is another obvious one.

When I started Molly Oliver Flowers, I was 30 years old, had recently completed a Certificate in Ecological Horticulture, and had at that point spent about 5 years immersing myself in farming pedagogy that aimed to build agricultural practices that were as symbiotic with nature's needs as possible (and rooted in the knowledge that any farm is inherently unnatural) and which produced healthier, safer, pesticide - free food (and flowers).


I was younger, more idealistic, and I founded my business on the principle of sourcing all of my flowers 100% locally (within 200 miles), and reducing waste as much as possible. This local focus was something I really zeroed in on, in terms of my attempt to live out sustainability in practice through a business. I believe I’ve stuck to my guns for the most part, but as the business grew and expenses became year-round (rent, insurance to start) this became a philosophical quandary.


Pretty quickly I began to feel the tension between the desire to produce work, to practice, to take jobs when I could get them (which means in winter, not just spring, summer and fall) and the limitations of availability: there really weren’t too many growers within 200 miles cutting flowers between November and March. And therefore not much variety beyond anemones, ranunculus, evergreens and dried flowers (each of these with their highly specific aesthetic).


Still, I was able to offer a local option to prospective winter event clients, albeit limited options, thanks to one farm, Battenfeld’s Tree Farm, a lone 100-year-plus-old farm in Red Hook, NY that specializes in winter-grown anemones and ranunculus. I felt (self-created) pressure to supplement these expensive focal flowers with local evergreen or California foliages (filling centerpieces purely with flowers would be too expensive for those early clients of mine). I agonized over the decision - to buy California product or not to buy California product (or Florida or Georgia or Oregon product for that matter). 

One of the first 100% locally sourced winter bouquets I made (in 2013) featured white anemones, one of the few focal flowers grown and harvested locally in winter, along with milkweed pods I'd foraged on roadsides in CT, cedar, cutflower kale and ivy. Photo by READYLUCK.

In many ways, Molly Oliver Flowers was for me a micro-approach to a macro problem; an attempt to help re-establish connection to the beauty that is available to us, based on the weather, microclimates, soil profiles within our region. To re-connect to beauty that is here and now; to the beauty of farming in concert with soil biology and the wider food pyramid and ecosystem. An attempt to practice what it might be like to live slightly more within nature's boundaries (again, recognizing that farming still requires use of natural resources, some of them unsustainable and unavoidable, even if you're doing your damndest to tread lightly on the earth).


For anyone new here, 80% of the flowers we have available to us today are grown overseas. The international flower trade is much like a modern day supermarket where sunflowers can be purchased any time of year (not just June - September) because some climate, somewhere can produce them in quantity, and modern air freight makes it possible to ship them overnight from almost anywhere.

As the business grew so did the number of local flower farmers. While I was purchasing flowers from under 10 local farms in 2012, I can now purchase from dozens, and through collectives that pool the product of many microfarms, making it easier and less expensive for the florist. By the time our subscriptions launched in 2020, the availability of local flowers and foliage had already come such a long way. When I dropped farming in 2019, so many others really meant for the work continued, growing their acreage and expertise. 

I can now source an array of ‘winter-forced’ tulips beginning in January, grown locally - like ‘Dee-Jay’ parrot tulips (left) and Crown of Dynasty and Rem’s Favorite (right)

The longer I’ve ‘flowered,’ longer I've run a small business, and the older I get, the more I’ve softened in terms of my personal definition of sustainability. It’s not just about making an array of tiny choices that aim to cut back on carbon emissions (by choosing to purchase local flowers, avoid plastics at all costs, etc.) or supporting sustainable farming (so that soil remains healthy, and local habitat/insect/bird/mammal populations aren’t adversely impacted by chemicals) – though that’s still a core principle.

Now in my mid 40's, and having weathered a 2020 where 40+ events were wiped off the calendar in a matter of weeks, and currently weathering a period of deep economic uncertainty that is having real financial impact on my business, it's more clear than ever that my definition of sustainability has also got to be about the business’s longevity, because it is intrinsically tied to my own financial health, the roof over my head, my daily motivation and the ability to keep going to offer the product and services we believe in to New Yorkers. Supporting farmers and financially investing in their choice to farm sustainably to produce the flowers and beauty we love relies on the business’s financial health. 


And so, the policy on sourcing has somewhat loosened. The first memory I have of this softening turn into an actual purchase of a flower that was obviously not locally grown was having a client in 2017 that was Colombian; orchids were the national flower and it was important to him (and his mother) that there were orchids - in his boutonniere and on the tables. I didn’t think twice about it; I wasn’t going to let some purist policy about sourcing keep this family from this meaningful flower in their lives.


Basically, I realized that in many ways my mission was precious and not inclusive of floral traditions of other cultures - for example, any founded around subtropical or tropical flowers/fruit/foliage that grow in different types of climates than the northeast). Making sure our clientele gets to honor cultural or family or brand traditions is important to me. Making sure our work is accessible to all, and that our clientele is diverse is also important. And of course, we continue to compost 99.9% of what we purchase (throwing the rare pesticide-laden rose in the trash), pick up our vessels at the end of every event (diverting from the trash which is sadly still very common in events), and buy in the most up-cycled, recyclable/compostable packaging we can find. 

When it comes to corporate clients, I will always lead with proposing the most locally-sourced, sustainable option that matches the vibe desired as closely as possible; but, some compromise along the way is a key ingredient for the short term goal of having molly oliver flowers make rent and keeping its people gainfully employed, and the long term goal of seeing copious amounts of locally grown flowers everywhere:)

100% locally grown anemones, tulips and ranunculus for an April gala

A suspended sculpture of dried wheat (sourced from River Garden Farm, a source for flowers since the business’s start) over tables dotted with locally sourced anemone, tulip and ranunculus from Tiny Hearts Farm and Hickory Grove Gardens - for Makers Mark at Yann Nury, La Residence in Soho - April 2025

My personal interest and passion for the work somewhat relies on getting to exercise creativity. So, sustainability also has to do with fueling creativity over the long term. It's certainly a fun project and challenge each year, to reinvent the anemone, ranunculus, or tulip.

A beautiful wedding we did in March for a very lovely couple leaned into citrus (the bride’s dream vision). Her joy - just bursting at the seams over the thought of bright yellows and oranges - was infectious. So we leaned in and strewed lemons and oranges and kumquat garlands on the tables, and I did it joyfully, without regrets or worries. 2012-era-Molly wouldn’t have dared. I’m glad I’ve evolved and gotten over myself a bit. And yes, plenty of local product served as the base for all designs. California grown acacia played nicely with local forsythia.

Chanelle and Gio with their dream flowers, March 2025. Photos by Khaki Bedford

Local poppies and pink cherry intermingling with California-grown acacia and various citrus I picked up in Sunset Park’s amazing fruit and veg markets; Photos by Khaki Bedford

For a very long time, I eschewed trends that didn’t favor local flowers. There have been particular trendy flowers, like anthurium (height of popularity circa ‘23 - ‘24) - that I was of course drawn to aesthetically and creatively but on principle refused to use. (Picture Molly staring longingly at these and hundreds of other flowers in the flower market, but resisting. It took stamina!) In many ways, I felt I lost opportunities - jobs - because I didn’t play to these trends. I'm sure I still do, and that's OK. We're not everyone's cuppa.

And yet, this year, I took a big old breath and used anthurium in designs for a wedding for the very first time. Arguably, the trend has passed. But the bride loved them, and they do have their very specific dialect within the mood language of flowers… I gave in. It felt good.

 

This June ‘25 bouquet featured white and pink anthurium, along with local agrostemma, pennycress and garlic scapes

Now, local flowers are the trend. Seasonal fruit, garlic scapes, and all the wild and weird and lesser known flowers are spilling into designers’ feeds like never before. In large part due to the resilience of our fairly young, mostly female, local flower farming community - in spite of very challenging economic and climactic forces. And, I’d like to think, in some small part thanks to the early loyalty and investment some designers and wholesalers poured into their farms and the wholesalers and markets that championed them.


The new local flower wholesaler ‘Flower Aggregate’, which sells 100% locally grown flowers, based out of Bushwick, is bringing even more access to New York floral and set designers, prop stylists, event producers, style editors, etc. And this proliferation of seasonal beauty will only trickle up and out to the fashion scene and other power centers that determine value / beauty / etc. It’s all bullshit we could say. But it also matters. 

A wild and untamed April garden at Box House Hotel; A playful Ikebana-inspired table design featuring hellebore, local tulips, snake allium and some tropical leaf I do not knwo the name of:) Photos by Hiba Eddine Photography

Well, clearly I have broken my writing drought in my typical long winded fashion. Editing is a skill I continue (often at pains) to sharpen - on the page and in the vase.


As always, thanks for reading, thanks for being here, and supporting in all the little ways. Every ‘like’ on Instagram, kind word sent via email is so appreciated. It’s been fun to look back through my photos from spring; I see the value and beauty we’re creating. I feel a Part 2 coming on… more on the behind the scenes - the staffing transitions, and the numbers. But, after vacation. Till then!