So much of the holiday season in Boston revolves around entertaining, and that activity has been cancelled or curtailed for the past two years, for valid reasons. The wreath below, from 2016, reminds us of glamorous gatherings with champagne, music, good food, and friends. We hope that, on a small scale, you will enjoy such an evening this year (safely, of course!
We love ribbon. Sometimes, when it’s November and we are so eager to start and are at the Flower Market browsing in the ribbon aisles, we pick out patterns and colors that are perhaps a little too challenging when we are on the spot decorating. Santa’s Buckle below was one that seemed like a good idea at the time, but was languishing on the rolls with no decorators willing to experiment with it. In these instances, we try to make up a bow with the ribbon to demonstrate what it will look like when made into a bow and hope someone will choose it. Once a wreath is successfully finished, everyone flocks to the ribbon and we can barely keep up with demand.
Today we simply want to point out the difficulty this 2016 wreath presented to the decorator. First, there is the fabric brocade bow, which unlike other materials can be notoriously difficult to staple in place and fluff properly. Then there are the small pomegranates, with no natural handles to attach firmly to the greens. Berries begin to shed upon touch, and the paper lantern flowers (Physalis alkekengi) fall off their fragile stems if you look at them crosswise. It is a magnificent wreath, however, and if memory serves, was one of a pair.
The Winter Solstice is here, the Shortest Day, the Longest Night, a time for Christmas Revels or Wiccan Celebrations or maybe just an evening of chestnuts roasting on an open fire. From 2016, here is an all natural wreath symbolizing all of the above. The word wreath comes from the word “writhen” that was an old English word meaning “to writhe” or “to twist.” Just a little bit of information for your day. Welcome, Yule!
For all natural wreaths especially, gathering a rich variety of greens, twigs, berries, and cones is important. A plain balsam ring with some pine cones is a pretty sad statement. A continuing problem has been acquiring interesting pines, firs, junipers (which can be unpleasantly prickly), rose hips (same thorny problem), and anything with a blue tint. Recently, in a Garden Club online arranging session with member Nancy Cyr, we saw her use a tool called a rose stripper, designed to strip thorns from roses but more useful, she said, to strip the bottoms of evergreen branches so they can be put into vases as part of an arrangement without submerging needles under water. This was an AHA! moment. Handling some of our more difficult greens with the help of a rose stripper may save on bandages later. Next year … Below is a wreath from 2010.
We want to point out that our wreath project is a physical as well as an artistic endeavor. Beginning with set-up, we haul countless boxes out of storage and into trucks, and unload into the First Lutheran Church of Boston’s basement down some rather hazardous steps. Then we re-assemble heavy collapsible tables, help unload the raw wreaths and greens from the delivery truck at the crack of dawn on Monday morning, and arrange our various easels and stations. Once the decorating starts, we are dashing up and down stairs picking our wreaths, spray painting elements when necessary, and carrying the now much heavier decorated wreaths to be checked at our desk/quality control area. The wreaths are then brought back upstairs into the courtyard for registering with the delivery committee. Our intrepid desk leaders do a fair amount of carrying up and down, possibly to get a bit of fresh air but often to take one more look at the wreaths once hung on walls and grates, as a final artistic check. Ten thousand steps is not difficult to achieve even though many hours are spent sitting or standing, arranging greens and wiring pinecones. Below is a wreath from 2009, ready to be carried up for delivery.
Below are examples of three wreaths, the first made in 2008, the second in 2013, and the third in 2018, all with warm red bows, but each with its own personality. When customers specify red, there are may directions a decorator can go – we have heavy rich velvets, filmy organzas, shiny satins, and textures such as brocade and windowpanes. Some reds shade to orange, some are closer to burgundy (but not burgundy, which is a separate choice).
After yesterday’s amusing mismatch, we show a beautiful pair now gracing a Marlborough Street door. The bows match and are in the same place on each wreath. The decorations are perfectly balanced. Lots of extra greens enhance the basic balsam. Our members really do excel at this, even under the most trying circumstances. Without access to our easels, which make working much easier, these wreaths are a triumph.
Below is an example of Why We Decorate. A local building, identity clothed in secrecy for the protection of the residents, is having a moment this year which we felt we had to share. We do invite your comments, however, with suggested captions. Just email info@bostonflora.com. Our suspicion is that two unit owners each offered to decorate. Or a building superintendent went into storage and pulled out whatever was on hand. In the most generous interpretation, twin eight year olds each got to choose a wreath for the door. As for the tropical leaves in the planters, we doubt they will last through the first freeze. I’m sure the Back Bay will be most grateful when we are able to return to selling and decorating wreaths. Tomorrow we will showcase an elegant pair done this year by one of our members for her own building.
Without the ability to gather in Boston for Wreath Week, many members stayed put in their homes or vacation homes outside Back Bay, where there are more materials to forage. The wreath below was made in the Berkshires, with locally gathered greens, cones and branches, and a few items, no doubt, from the nursery. The bow, with its black and white checked lining, was one of our favorites from past seasons.
