This past week I had the honor of working alongside 16 of Seattle’s talented florists adorning mannequins in botanical fashion for the Fleurs de VillesExhibition at the Northwest Flower and Garden Show.
The giddy two months prior were filled with floral fashion day dreams, inspiration curation, excel sheets of flower combinations, budgeting, emails, sketches, mock ups, and more day dreams.
I have always been drawn to fashion as a form of art and self expression. I got that from my mother a long time seamstress who taught me about precious textiles like Liberty of London and Pierre Deux, taught me the joy of rifling through racks at yard sales and goodwill for the forgotten gems and who never let a halloween happen without the most bespoke, handmade costume. For much of my middle school carrier my best friend and I had dreamed up our own fashion line, embroidered our jeans and made outfits for the middle school dance out of table cloths. It’s safe to say when the Fleurs de Villes challenge came my way my inner 7th grader was out of her tree.
So where to begin? How could I best express myself as a designer? Ondine means little wave or sea witch in French. A name I chose as a nod to my island roots and love affair with the ocean. Botticelli’s birth of Venus kept surfacing as I sifted through my consciousness for a muse.
Botticelli’s Birth of Venus
Segment of Botticelli’s Primavera
So I created a homage to Botticelli through a modern lens drawing off of “Birth of Venus” and “Primavera.” I wanted to balance contemporary romance with timeless antiquity, large sculptural form with delicate texture, and the earthly with the oceanic. Locally foraged pearlescent lunaria and dried hydrangea grown by my mother-in-law made up her bodice. Braided bismarkia palms gestured a shell at her base and dried Tsunami palms created architectural sleeves echoing that of the shell. Spanish moss and limonium were woven throughout to create romantic delicate texture. Tulips, roses, lisianthus, carnations, and butterfly ranunculus made up the focal flowers. The design was free of foam and bleached flowers, two very environmentally taxing practices used in the floral industry.
The night of install florists came with buckets of blooms, plastic body parts, genius water source contraptions and armatures, and teams of friends and family. It was a long night in which I realized what being a florist really meant: 10% floral designer 30% shleper and 60% magician.
Special thanks to the Fleurs de Villes team for orchestrating, the Northwest Flower and Garden Show for having us, Pacific Place Mall and Hendrix Gin for sponsoring us, Washington Floral Service and Mayesh for being our flower partners, and Samantha Smith for the documentation.
This styled shoot explored the ethereal feminine by balancing light with darkness, classical with earthly, delicate with architectural. The hand dyed Leanne Marshall gown was the fluid foundation from which the shoot evolved. We found a sweet splendor in the simplicity of the single element of the blue hydrangea. It was nothing shy of magic to watch the elements of this shoot become one when worn by the exquisite Arianne.
All weddings are inevitably labors of love. But Anna and Jamie’s homegrown celebration redefined this phrase. My dear friend Anna grew up on an organic vegetable farm in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. Her parents, Judy and Bruce, bought Riverside Farm in the 80s. Here they would share in all the seasons of life; this earth they would turn over again and again with their hands; where their two children would roam wild and learn the value of eating tomatoes like apples and how community in farm country is as important as fertile soil. Judy and Bruce married wading in the river that runs through it.
photo: Hannah Rindlaub
I had the honor of wading in this same river the week of Anna and Jamie’s wedding. I got to return to this homestead to help Anna and Judy harvest buckets and buckets and buckets of flowers Judy had started from seed just weeks after the engagement. Amaranth, sunflowers, cress, sage, eucalyptus, poppy pods, sweet annie, queen anne’s lace, echinacea, asparagus foliage, zinnia, lisianthus, spirea, peonies, black cohosh, white finch orlaya. There is palpable sanctity in knowing the journey of each and every bloom I get to design with. More power in knowing the hands that cultivated them did so in the name of her daughter’s love. As we cut and bucketed the heaping swath of amaranth, I asked if I could take their portrait. It was the first time I had really taken in their striking resemblance. The way their laugh lines echo one another’s and the way they carried themselves with such dignified strength. During this pause in the day's work we all were flooded with the deep love these flowers grew from and radiated. It seemed to hang in sky with the late July sun. Weighty but buoyant.
And during the next few days as those flowers moved through my hands this is what I felt. I hoped that weight and buoyancy would come out in my designs. I hoped they would do Judy’s bounty justice.
photo: Two of Us Photography
photo: Two of Us Photography
photo: Two of Us Photography
There were long nights and early mornings in which I undoubtably overtook the couple’s cottage rental (the only cool place on the premise). Buckets took shifts in proximity to the dinky AC unit during the 95 degree weather. During several of my design sessions I had the company of chickens, alpacas, and pups. This was a real farm wedding. And thus full of authenticity.
photo: Two of Us Photography
photo: Two of Us Photography
photo: Two of Us Photography
As the wedding came together all around me, I realized how the flowers were just a small fraction of the homegrown heart this wedding had. All the vegetables served were grown by Bruce and Judy, 150 jars of strawberry-rhubarb jam made by Judy, loaves and loaves of bread and a cake baked by their long time neighbors, live music played by dear friends. And the list goes on.
I recalled a couple days earlier harvesting with Anna and Judy. A few of the supplemental flowers had been cut from neighboring farms in exchange for vegetables. I had asked Judy, “is that pretty typical for the farming community, this sort of give and take.” She responded with, “Oh yes. Farming here is such a precarious endeavor you wouldn’t be able to survive without each other.”
This sentiment seemed to be ringing true in the endeavor of a wedding. Perhaps that’s what a wedding is all about: the growing, the giving and the nourishing that both partners offer one another. And the community that shows up in support of your love. The fertile soil of their faith in you.
photo: Hannah Rindlaub
photo: Two of Us Photography
photo: Two of Us Photography
Aside from a couple Riverside Farm photos all the imagery was taken by the talented Two of Us Photography.
