Looking to broaden your floral know-how? MyDomaine has teamed up with Floom, an online platform that allows you to order bouquets and plants from the best artisanal florists. Each month the team will be offering their own personal guide to the coolest blooms you might be hankering after without knowing exactly what they are called or how to arrange them. Here are Floom’s seven floral picks for September.
Hello, MyDomaine readers! It’s Floom, back to handle all those pressing What are those flowers called? questions and concerns. While grocery stores have led us to believe that we can acquire any flower we want year-round, flowers are actually pretty fussy when it comes to deciding on the perfect season to unfurl themselves. Luckily there are literally thousands of amazing, diverse flowers popping up throughout the year. This month, we’re saying goodbye to summer and falling head over heels for a host of vibrant autumn varieties, from the simple pleasures of the daisy to the sensual luxury of the chocolate cosmos. Need to know the best florals for your fall bouquet? Dive in to see our seven picks.
So this one probably shouldn’t be in your bouquet, but let’s start with a bit of a curveball, because there’s no getting around the chief characteristic of the seductive Aconitum: It’s extremely poisonous.
That said, its ancient use as venom means the flower has racked up some impressive cultural ties, from Shakespeare’s Henry IV to Ovid’s telling of Medea in The Metamorphoses. Wolf’s bane is perhaps the most notorious strain of aconitum and has become the go-to flower for all things horror-related. Bela Lugosi’s Dracula was warded off by sprigs of the stuff, it plays pivotal roles in guilty-pleasure TV like Teen Wolf and Vampire Diaries, and even Harry Potter receives a lecture on the plant from his delightfully dry professor Severus Snape.
We suggest keeping your distance from aconitum unless you come across it in the pages of James Joyce’s Ulysses or while watching an episode of Dexter, in which it also makes appearances. Instead, you can appreciate the undoubted allure of their beautiful hooded flowers on Floom.
We don’t know who is officially in charge of naming flowers, but they should have stuck with the plant’s Latin name, Asclepias. Instead, we got stuck with the decidedly unglamorous milkweed. Thanks, flower namers, for making us instantly think of the milky sap (gross) it omits.
It stings even more because Asclepias (we’re sticking to the Latin here) actually produces some of the most amazing flowers out there. They’re among the most complex in the plant kingdom, comparable to orchids. Reverse-facing petals, hybrid stamen, hoods and horns… Honestly, take a peek inside the bunchy structures of an Asclepias and you’ll forget all about its milky sap (again, gross).
I grew up in one of the few cities in the northeast of England, famed for its chocolate factories. On certain afternoons, if the wind was blowing in the right direction, the smell of Maltesers and mint Aeros would waft across town with an intensity that Roald Dahl would be proud of. I’ve not experienced the innocent joy of chocolate-flavored air since leaving for London some 10 years ago, but sticking one’s nose into a chocolate cosmos is about as close as I’ve come. Clue’s in the name, right? These things smell a bit like chocolate.
They’re also a real sweet feast for the eyes, flowering as they do with deep crimson, bowl-shaped blooms. It’s native to Mexico, and its name derives from the Greek word for universe. Imagine that: a chocolate-scented universe. It almost makes me want to move back north—almost.
Spare a thought for the misunderstood cornflower. Maligned as a weed for much of its history because it dared to pop up in fields otherwise dedicated to corn, it was almost annihilated thanks to overzealous farmers and their pesticides.
All things considered, this makes cornflowers’ spindly spread of pretty, blue ray florets around a cluster of disc florets all the more precious. Their weed status is even less fair when you consider that their flowers are edible, too. You can spot their bright blue petals bringing color to an artfully prepared salad at the latest on-trend eatery.
Ah, the common European daisy, aka bellis perennis, aka the archetypal species of the Asteraceae family. Just because you know what you’re getting with the daisy doesn’t mean it’s not worth pausing over. Take a moment to appreciate its simple beauty. After all, strange little plates in fine dining establishments are all well and good, but sometimes nothing beats a bag of chips, right?
What you might not know about the daisy is that its name is thought to be a corruption of the phrase “day’s-eye.” This is because the head of the flower closes at night and opens when the sun comes up. Can you think of anything cuter than a flower that retires to bed every evening?
The Veronica from which the plant derives its name is most likely Saint Veronica, a pious little lady from Jerusalem who leant her veil to Jesus so that he could wipe his brow while carrying his cross. How this quite relates to the characteristics of the pretty little gypsyweed (as Veronicas are also known) is not quite clear to this writer. What I can tell you is that they’re supposed to taste delicious—similar to watercress. This claim is also unverified, though presumably easy to get to the bottom of, if anyone out there is feeling like taking a minor culinary risk.
Native to the Southern states of the USA, the lisianthus is more commonly known by names like the prairie gentian and the Texas bluebell. I love that last one because it makes you realize how evocative the name of that state is. Now I’m picturing a small-town flower with big-city dreams. While that may not be true, what is evident is that the Texas bluebell is a stunning stem. Its majestic, funnel-shaped flowers can grow to two inches in diameter and sit proudly above their slightly succulent leaves. They can be found in all manner of rich colorings, from deep purple to simply red. Some are even multicolored! Dream big, Texas bluebell—you deserve it.