Arranging flowers from the deli with Alice

The legendary Constance Spry built a career on this. She used hawthorn with roses and cabbage leaves in place of greenery—anything to topple the idea of choreographed perfection. An icon in the storied history of floristry, she rejected the rigid, overly polished arrangements that dominated early 20th-century floristry and instead embraced something looser, more intuitive—almost rebellious. Working with whatever was at hand—hedgerow branches, vegetables, wildflowers—she blurred the line between the cultivated and the foraged.

That approach didn’t just redefine floral design; it challenged ideas about taste, class, and beauty. By the time she was designing for royalty, her style had already reshaped the field.

Carrying this instinct forward, Alice turns to her local deli for the flora she arranges at home—an abundant bunch, often a single variety per vase. The work is unfussy, a bit messy, and wholly satisfying. There are no real rules, aside from trimming the stems and readying the water before choosing a spot and placing each one.

At home, the dance of arranging is loose and intuitive. “You need to think about what they will look like in a few days,” she explains, “when the stems flop, and the buds pop a little.” If you're especially diligent, you’ll refresh the water daily, a small lifeline for every bloom.

As for the vessel, Alice advises that scale and wiggle room should be your guide. Half the joy of living alongside flora is the performance they put on as the days pass, blooms yawning toward the light, branches disrupting the travel paths of the house.

This time of year in New York, Alice gravitates toward what feels on the verge—fritillaria with their checkered bells, hellebore still lingering from late winter, and the first unruly branches of flowering quince or cherry, all tension and promise. There are tulips, too, but only the loose, wayward kinds that arc as they please.