On the eve of March 8, the theme of flowers is more relevant than ever. Our columnist Ksenia Chudinova discusses why giving flowers is very pleasant. And here you can find out what men think about this.

My grandmother loved flowers. But in her youth, no one gave them to her. I don’t remember her complaining about it. But at the age of 60, she bought herself a house in a village with 25 acres of land and practically planted all of them with flowers. The village laughed at her. Because a good and zealous owner grows vegetables and berries on his hundred square meters. Point. My grandmother, having found her coveted land, preferred flowers. But sly. She had beds with vegetables and berries, but calendula always stuck out between the carrots, giant mallows stood in the potatoes, the pharmacy chamomile hugged the tomatoes, and pumpkins in general were grown not for fruits, but only for the sake of giant yellow flowers, around which bees always swarmed.

My grandmother demanded that we collect bouquets on the site, so that there are always flowers in the house. Sorting out the bouquets (cutting, changing the water, throwing away faded specimens) was a daily matter, and only children, not adults, were engaged in this. This was necessary in order for children to learn to understand flowers, know how to combine them with each other, understand what a tall bouquet means, small or asymmetrical, why plantain, mint leaves or dill inflorescence are also flowers, or what is their value.

My grandmother’s upbringing fell on the 90s and 2000s, when it seemed that flowers were the lot of the elite: they cost like a cast-iron bridge, they went to Kievsky railway station, and even then only roses and carnations were sold there.

Many years have passed since then, the flower industry has made great strides – now, it seems, you can buy anything in any city in the country. And the bouquet has become a common place – it is presented to everyone in a row and for any reason, often without thinking to whom and what.

But there are no bouquets for all occasions. How cool it would be if people remembered that every time they give flowers, they send a letter with a message: tenderness, passion, interest, love, friendship, support, just a good mood, consolation.

I remember my hatred of carnations, because every fan in the 90’s and 2000 considered it their duty to bring three or five of them. They are generally “little things“ considered. Then it was time for the bucket“ bouquets: this is when there are so many flowers that you need a bucket. But it was absolutely impossible to feel the beauty of this living mass – the flowers looked like a mass grave. It seemed that they just wanted to buy you with this bouquet – I would not be surprised if there was a price tag inside the cellophane.

It was only later that it became clear that by the flowers presented, you can easily determine what kind of person is in front of you, what he thinks about himself and what he needs.

And it is a great happiness when people meet who understand and appreciate flowers – and can give you an armful of lovingly collected autumn maples, little cornflowers, eternal proteas or lotuses, which, drying out, turn into an element of home decor, a bunch of nuts or a beautiful tomato branch with small red fruits. For the rest of my life I will remember cabbage bouquets, chamomile with thistles and barely opened peonies. I also remember a brilliant gift from my friend when we met at lunchtime and she gave a little flower to my mother and stepmother. Because there are no rules for “assembling a bouquet“, there is only a sense of beauty and appropriateness of the gift.

I’m a flower addict. You can give me absolutely any flowers: cut, in pots, in seeds, I can even just drag a branch of a sawn poplar or ficus – and I will die of happiness. I bring flowers and seeds from different countries – smuggling, by the way, hiding the coveted roots in panties and boots in a suitcase. Well, so that in principle it was generally clear about me: this text is written by a person who brought birch seeds to Israel and tried to grow a tree here (unsuccessfully).

But such crazy women, in principle, are few. There are those who do not like potted flowers and are furious when “such“ carry as a gift. But you can soften the blow of fate by first specifying the size of the housing, and never give cacti, succulents or our Moscow window sills violets. For the sake of fairness, it is worth noting that if you spend money not only on a flower, but also on a beautiful pot, which often reaches the price tag of a medium-sized tree in cost, your gift will definitely be appreciated. Because even if the ficus dies, the beautiful vase will remain.

Therefore, there are three important rules for giving flowers.

They do not give flowers to married lovers. Everything is trite here: they simply have nowhere to bring this bouquet. Well, either they give it, then they calmly look at the fact that the flowers remain in the restaurant where you just went.

They do not give bouquets that look like funeral wreaths: when small panicles stick out in the bouquet, and it itself is packed in rustling cellophane.

Always and everywhere they give flowers to men close to you – with a reason, without a reason, just like that. This makes an indelible impression on them and, most importantly, it accurately demonstrates your ideas about how the bouquet should look, which he will give you in return.

Photo: Maria German.