Tag Archives: floral gifts

Say it With Flowers

At lunchtime in work the other day, a guy mentioned that he had bought yellow roses for his girlfriend. Immediately one of the girls, who always seems to know these amazing facts, piped up “oh no, they’re a sign of jealousy”. This led to us typing ‘Meaning of Flowers’ into Google (how did we used to find out stuff?) which brought us to http://www.iflorist.com/en/gifts/meaning, which gives an A to Z of flowers and what they mean, with the enticing tag “Our floral dictionary defines flowers according to their traditional meanings. Check here when you wish to send a subtle message through a bouquet – or to decode the spray you’ve received!”

Sure enough, yellow roses do symbolise jealousy, although also Infidelity, joy, gladness and other things. But there are hundreds more. Some are obvious: Bridal Rose = Happy Love, Forget-Me-Not = Memories, Narcissus = Egotism, Four-leaf Clover = Symbol of Good Luck.  There are also symbols of concealed love, timid love, unrequited love, eternal love, young love,  puppy love and my first dream of love. There are flowers that are so obscure (Coreopsis, Convolvulus, Smilax, Xeranthemum) that you needn’t worry about the hidden meaning, since the recipient won’t know what they’re called anyway.

So many, though, are just plain insulting. How about China Aster, which means Jealousy and Afterthought. Cyclamen means Rejection and Goodbye. Orange Mock means Deceit. And, brilliantly, Bouquet of Withered Flowers means Rejected Love.

Most, though, are just strange. Almond means both Virginity and Fruitfulness. Hyacinth means Games and Sports. Burdock means Importunity and Boredom (I was bored so I went and bought flowers?). Love-in-the-Mist, rather disappointingly, means Delicacy and Perplexity.

Anyway, here is the Tinman18 guide to flowers:

Daffodils: I’ve nicked these off the bank of the M1 and hope to pretend I’m collecting for the Irish Cancer Society.

Three yellow roses: I’m seventeen, you’re my first girlfriend, I went to buy you a dozen red roses but they’re bleedin’ forty-five quid.

Mixed Bouquet in Tightly Wrapped Cellophane: I’m home from the pub eleven hours later than I said I’d be, and I got you these at a garage forecourt.

Burdock: Any chance of cooking me some chips?

Bouquet of Withered Flowers: I couldn’t afford a Bucket of Dead Fish. BTW, you’re dumped.