Roses are Red, but I’m a Shrew
I’ve never really been a ‘bouquet of flowers’ kinda gal. When it came to my wedding, I rolled up, on the morning of the ceremony, at Flowers on Chestnut in Nantucket, MA and said, ‘err, yeah. Well, we’re getting married…on a boat so probably green and blue flowers would be best, I thhhhhink. I don’t care what you do, as long as there’s basil in the veil comb piece.’
I’m horrifically and yet comically ashamed to recall telling a teenage boyfriend that, actually, this Valentine’s, I’d rather just have the money he would have wasted on a bouquet. I mean, really, what’s the cruel point? I’m hopeless with flowers and I certainly don’t consider making me care for a couple of stems for about a week, whilst I watch them wither anyway, an act of love! I could get on board with the programme if people sent potted plants because then a lifetime greater than one of Katie Price’s marriages is still feasible.
Scratch that. I once got so incensed by a boyfriend getting me flowers that I offered them to my male flatmate to re-gift to his girlfriend. THEY CAME WITH A FOIL HEART-SHAPED HELIUM BALLOON. If that wasn’t the neon sign saying ‘break up NOW’, then I don’t know what was.
Safe to say, Mr TL had never made that mistake…until last week. Why the man can’t send some shoes, I don’t know. Nevertheless, McQueen’s of Old Street set a new bar.
Their flowers are so far removed from same-old same-old Interflora garbage. What’s more, their service is impeccable. The first bunch arrived (at my office, cue much hemming and hawing by the ladies and a few ‘what’s he done wrong then?’ from the men) and a few of the petals looked a little haggard. My trusty PA, outraged on my behalf (the little pitbull) made a well-mannered complaint and, with zilch hesitation or fuss, McQueen’s offered to send another hand-tied bouquet the following day. Apologies for the heinous photo quality, but I can’t whip out anything larger than a BlackBerry at work [don’t be dirty]. 
It would come as no surprise if you were wondering about the name. I was sure there must be a connection to Alexander McQueen, especially given the font McQueen’s uses. The premises florist-McQueen’s occupies, and has done since 1991, used to be owned by Alexander McQueen’s mother or aunt. Besides, it’s a great name, so who’s fussed?
I’ll admit that had the flowers not come from McQueen’s, I would not have been as pleased. Not only has Alexander McQueen had a presence throughout the TL relationship, but I do think it best to support independent places wherever possible.
In a tenuous link (but really just an excuse for a good image), here’s a beautiful flowered (literally) McQueen dress from SS 07. A heart-stopping display of McQueen’s beautifully morbid conceptualisation of the frailty of life and romance.
Gentlemen, should you want to gift some flowers, you could do a lot worse than McQueen. Puns and monikers aside, this florist has some amazing credentials and style: from Vanity Fair parties to Claridge’s Christmas and a Mulberry tree:
TheTastyLick 
i think flowers are just fabulous! nothing pleases me more! but i’m some sort of a really girly girl! however i wouldnt say no to some shoes as well! 😉
Hold your horses! Let’s aim for both! X