What kind of florist are you?

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Last Sunday at Brewtown market, I overheard a customer say to his daughter "why don't we ask the florist to make something bigger and more special for mummy and your new sister."

He was a regular at the market - not a flower buyer yet - but he knew exactly where he'd go when the moment called for it. We have plenty of customers like that. People who plan their Sunday shopping around the flower stall. 

That's not a small thing. That's a customer who knows exactly what they're getting from us and has decided it's worth building into their routine. Seasonal and fresh from the farm, something they can't get anywhere else on a Sunday morning.

It got me thinking more about what we call ourselves  in this industry. And whether we've been answering that question the right way.

The word we've borrowed

Most of us, if pressed, would say we're not florists. Florists have shops. Florists source from markets and wholesalers. Florists do weddings and events and walk-in customers on a Tuesday afternoon. We grow things. We're growers first, and sellers somewhere after that.

But here's what's true at the same time. If you're selling flowers directly to customers - at a market stall, from a farm gate, through a subscription, at a pop-up - you are in the floristry business. You're selecting, presenting, and selling flowers to people who want them. The fact that you grew them is what makes you different, not what puts you outside the category.

The question isn't whether you're a florist. The question is what kind.

Three relationships with florists 

Something I've been thinking about lately is that most of us who grow and sell are managing several completely different relationships at once - and we don't always have clear language for what each one requires.

There's the relationship with florists who buy from us. Historically, growers have tended to come into this with hat in hand, hoping the florist will take the ‘product’, willing to negotiate to suit a budget benchmarked against the auction and the wholesaler.

The florist is the professional, the grower is the supplier. It's a dynamic that has long characterised the industry and can be surprisingly hard to shift.

But a florist buying seasonal flowers from a local grower is getting something their wholesaler cannot give them. Provenance, seasonality, direct access to the person who grew the flowers and foliage. Flowers that change week to week - a challenge for them operationally, but a genuine point of difference for their customers. When growers and florists understand what each brings to that relationship, the conversation changes.

Then there's the retail floor - where in some markets, we're operating alongside florists rather than supplying them. Right now, I'm selling bunches at a food store while an established local is selling posies and arrangements to the same pool of customers.

We're not the same thing. We're not even quite competing, even though our flower stands are two feet away from each other. My customers know they're getting farm-fresh flowers in a naturalistic style. Her customers want something more traditional and familiar.

Those are different customers with different needs. The moment I start anchoring what I offer to hers, I confuse everyone - including myself.

And then there's the direct relationship - the Brewtown market customer who plans her week around visiting our stall, or orders directly to collect from The Pickery. That relationship has nothing to do with florists.

It's between a grower and a person who has decided that seasonally grown, locally grown flowers are worth seeking out. That customer isn't comparing us to a florist or to the supermarket. She's comparing us to her own idea of the flowers she loves.

The thing we keep underselling

The growers I talk to who are making their businesses work - really work, on their own terms - are the ones who've stopped trying to fit into a category and started owning the one they're actually in.

Not "we're like a florist but cheaper." Not "we're the local alternative to supermarket flowers." Not "we're good value for what you get."

Just: this is what we grow. This is what's available right now. This is what you can't get anywhere else.

It's a small shift in how you think about your flowers and hold yourself in a conversation. It has a large effect on which customers you attract and what they're willing to pay.

The farmer-florist - the grower who designs and sells their own work - sits in genuinely new territory. Not a florist in the traditional sense. Not just a grower but who creates from field and to  vase. That's worth claiming. Most of us just haven't quite got there yet.

A question worth asking yourself

When you describe your business to someone who's never heard of you - a potential trade customer, a new market visitor, a journalist, a friend of a friend - what do you say?

And is what you say an accurate reflection of what you're actually building?

When I asked myself this very question, I had to cut through a lot of angst about what I was claiming. What I've found works best is simply to use what my customers use to describe me - a florist. Or if I want to be more precise, depending on who I'm talking to, a farmer florist or a grower florist.

But like it or not, a florist it is.

Because what you say shapes what they understand, what they pay, and whether they come back. And sometimes the clearest answer is the one other people have already given you.

Written by: Julie Treanor - Owner of The Pickery and co-creator of The Floral Business Activator who cannot shake off the feeling that the seasonal flower industry is destined for greater things!

Follow Julie on Instagram @thepickery