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Smyth and Chandler are the entrepreneurial founders of floristry business WORM London, famed for a novel gifting service in which they select not only a bunch of beautiful seasonal flowers but also a book, perhaps new, perhaps old, but always thoughtfully hand-chosen according to miscellaneous details provided about the recipient.
Now, they’ve published a book of their own. Wreaths: Fresh, foraged & dried floral arrangements (Quadrille, £14.99) is a beauty of a guide to creating considered and yet utterly wild seasonal arrangements.
The pair are fascinated by meaning and storytelling, and often refer to Victorian floriography (“the language of flowers”) in their work - and yet there’s nothing primly Victorian or buttoned-up about their untamed, free and chaotic-in-a-good-way styling. As the book shows, there’s nothing to say a wreath is just for Christmas - or even that it has to be circular, or abide by any rules at all.
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But spring is nigh, so I’m at the Committee of Taste, their Stoke Newington studio - which doubles up as a friend's antique furniture shop - to make a May wreath.
At a glance | How to make a basic wreath shape
Katie Smyth and Terri Chandler of WORM London share their method for creating a simple, organic wreath shape from a plant vineMATERIALS
- One plant vine; the length depends on how big you want the wreath to be, and how thick the vine is Secateurs
- Twine or roll of bonding wire
- Bonsai scissors or florist’s scissors
INSTRUCTIONS
- Use secateurs to cut the vine to the length that you need
- Begin by bending the vine into the size you want the wreath to be, and then start to weave the vine around itself once or twice to give a rough circle shape (it doesn’t have to be a perfect circle)
- Using twine or binding wire, tie the vine together tightly at three or four points around the circle to make sure it is completely secure. Weave in the end to conceal it and stop it from poking out.
- Snip off any excess twine.
TIP
You can keep the pieces of vine that you cut off at the start and use them to make a miniature wreath or the base of a mobile
[post_ads]Our theme leads Smyth and Chandler to recall the May altars of their Catholic upbringing in Ireland. “It’s a real Irish thing to have a May altar. There’d always be lots of blue to symbolise the Blessed Virgin Mary, and there’d also always be daffodils and snowdrops. You’d never buy anything, it was always with things that came from the land. Paperwhites, hellebores, and even dandelions.”
It was perhaps this, their first experience of floristry, which instilled their preference for foraged, seasonal blooms and grasses that reflect the surrounding landscape and the time of year.
For Chandler and Smyth, nothing says spring in Britain like the humble daffodil. "It’s so lovely being a florist in spring, and seeing little buds coming up everywhere," enthuses Chandler. "Everything is brighter, fresher, coming alive again. The smell of a daffodil - we love it so much, and they’re just sprinkled all over the country. In a lot of countries they don’t have flowers growing everywhere, because of the dryness of the land. We complain about all this rain but what’s growing everywhere in spring here is crazy, and we’re so lucky to have it.”
That said, the traditional May wreath can trace its roots to Greece. As well as celebrating the emergence of spring, herbs and bulbs of garlic were strung up in hope of a good crop and to ward off evil spirits - the equivalent of a horse shoe in Ireland, where the pair grew up.
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"Nothing’s perfect, and everything has a strange stem because the wind has blown it into that shape. That’s what we love and we struggle in the winter when we have to order in forced flowers with the perfect amount of leaves. It just doesn’t feel like nature to us,” admits Chandler
“We’re both kind of wild people,” she laughs heartily. “Neither of us are neat or rational. If we had to make a really perfect posy of roses, we would struggle.”
On their watch, textures, feelings and spontaneity take priority over formal colour schemes. “That’s something that was lost for a long time. Flowers became more commercial, and it would always just be pink and white roses at a wedding, with less focus on meaning.”
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While the pair cite the New Covent Garden Flower Market as their “favourite place in the world”, you don’t have to look far - or spend any money - to recreate the magic at home. “It can be accessible and inexpensive,” Smyth assures me. “Foraging doesn't have to mean that you’re cutting stuff down. I was walking along the canal a few weeks ago and there was all this amazing dried fern. I think if you make more of an effort to just look at things, you’ll start to notice them.
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“We were doing an event recently and we put all the flowers in the back of the taxi. The driver asked us why we were putting weeds in the back - but when we set it up, they looked so beautiful and delicate.” Weeds or not, as I step back to admire my wondrous wreath, I can’t help but think they’re right.
Wreaths: Fresh, foraged & dried floral arrangements by Terri Chandler and Katie Smyth is published by Quadrille (£14.99). To order your copy for £12.99 plus p&p call 0844 871 1514 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk
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