On Thursday I opened the front door to find a copy of Mel Stapleton’s book, Pretty Dirty, sitting on the doorstep. I was familiar with some of the content, but to see it in real life was something very special and brought a flood of memories to mind.
I met Mel in 2005 just after she had returned from the UK. We were introduced by a mutual friend, Paul Hyland, at the Mt Erica Hotel public bar, over beer and chips. Mel was looking for work and Paul suggested that she might be a good fit for our family shop, The Big Bunch. It was decided that she should come down the following week and check it out. In that introduction, I was struck by Mel’s gentle nature, radiant beauty and her curiosity – she asked lots of questions about the business.
The Big Bunch philosophy was about getting large volumes of cut flowers from local growers into the hands and homes of Melbourne residents. The focus was not on design or events, but celebrating the best stock the local growers had to offer. A fresh load came in daily from Monday – Saturday, including three trips per week to fill the van directly from the growers in the Dandenongs. And the customers flooded in. We’d get all the good stuff — the stuff that glowed.
When Mel arrived for a try out, I gave her a bunch of orders that needed putting together. She took the first one from the list and headed into the shop to select the blooms. She chose a bunch of pink liliums, each stem with a bloom open, and a bunch of blossom (japonica, if I remember correctly). Standing at the front bench, she prepared the bunches, ready to be mixed and wrapped.
Now, as a shop florist, you can mindlessly bang two bunches together in the rush of retail, or you can view each transaction as an opportunity to connect with your materials and infuse every bit of your life experience and creative sparkle into the process. Clearly, Mel opted for the latter.
The bunch was effortlessly balanced. Open blooms were protected in the blossom tangle and the buds were positioned in such a way that they had space to open, without restraint. The two materials married together and played off each other with a comfortable, airy elegance that very few florists can achieve.
Then Mel wrapped the bunch, ready for delivery. The paper positioning was perfect; blooms protected, but also on show. That simple bundle was all the proof that was needed; Mel had flower magic.
Afterwards, Paul asked me how it all went. I remember saying to him, “she’s got IT… probably too good for us… and I reckon the bigger the job, the better she will get“.
With the sale of the shop in 2006, we all went different ways. In 2007 I found myself in hospital for 10 weeks — one of the most challenging and stressful experiences of my life. In the haze of my memories, Mel’s kind face was one that appeared by my side.
A few years later, I was living in the hills with a toddler in tow and a wedding business taking off. Via the media, I could see that Mel was starting to fly.
The story of Cecilia Fox, Mel’s business, was impressive: one of rapid growth, risk-taking and an explosion of creativity. One week I was standing in a wholesaler’s coolroom looking at buckets and buckets of unsold white hydrangea for $4 a bunch. Soon after, Mel did a white hydrangea installation that went viral. The next year, white hydrangea was $15 a bunch.
The jobs Cecilia Fox were doing were inspiring. Big budget, small budget, each with characteristic, boundary-pushing flair. Starting trends, then blowing them off the scale and starting on something new before the petals of other florists had time to settle.
What impressed me most was Mel’s knack for building community and sharing her flower magic with others. This has been evident in her support for what we’ve been doing with the Sustainable Floristry Network. Over the last few years, I’ve reached out to many florists and invited them to do the course. Firmly in support of climate and biodiversity scientists, I’ve tried to communicate the urgency of what we need to do as florists — drive urgent system change to tackle the unjustifiable (and unnecessary) waste and emissions connected to the industry. But for many, education is not a priority.
Mel on the other hand, open-minded and always the pioneer, gets it. She understands the mission: our industry has disconnected from its roots and lost its way. Pretty Dirty takes our work on sustainability to a new audience, with sensitivity, respect and humility.
I rarely post on social media anymore. I can no longer find my way through the misguided algorithms and the sludge of ‘personal brands’ and marketing. The impact social media has made on floristry has, in my opinion, been far more damaging than good. Anyone can start an account, set a table for lunch and call themselves a designer. Influencer culture in floristry has created a false narrative about what working with flowers is like. The voice of career florists is frequently drowned out by individuals who have the time and/or money to get the pics to trigger the ‘likes’.
The emphasis on flower arranging — in reality, probably around 10% of an average floristry business — has created unrealistic expectations for those entering the industry. Arranging flowers from one’s own garden is a privilege few can enjoy. The ‘educators’ who tell amateurs to stop doing $3K weddings and start focusing on $30K jobs are feeding into a culture of delusion and overconsumption. When folios and designs are created for photographic images (and without the constraints or understanding of the commercial reality), it can inspire, but it can also make things harder for those trying to earn a basic living and maintain consistent standards, as it undermines the skills and knowledge needed to make floristry a successful career. For every ‘create a floral installation’ course, there should be a complementary session on “load a van without herniating a spinal disc” or “what to do when your flower order doesn’t arrive”, or simply “find career satisfaction in wrapping a simple bunch for the average person”.
Looking through the book, I am reminded of just how much Mel has inspired me to explore new creative boundaries and to take risks. Spending six, gruelling, desk-bound years heading into the unknown with the SFN, has been the biggest one of all. But yet again, Mel has beenby my side.
Floristry is hard and unglamourous work. But there is a reason some people stick it out. Pretty Dirty explains why. Beautifully.
Flowering Now
Flowering Now was a pre-COVID exhibition concept by Mel and close friend and creative collaborator Katie Marx. The purpose was to give a bunch of working florists a chance to create something that celebrated creativity and flowers, free from their usual day-to-day constraints.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to participate in the first one, due to my workload. However, I had the great pleasure of being part of the 2019 event. Some (not professional) images below from the 2019 exhibition.
