I saw an interesting sign in a florist’s window that said…
Order your boutonnieres a week in advance…
Now there’s word you don’t hear or see much.
Bouton, French for button, made me think of Vanderbilts and Astors, women in white gloves with parasols, and my pal Ed who’s the only one I know who could pull off anything floral in his lapel.
Since it’s prom and wedding season, and considered the male version of a corsage, that sign suddenly made sense.
A group of graduates on church steps, the young men with sprigs of lilies of the valley peeking from Brooks Brothers blazers.
It made me dream of a different time when flowers spoke for the person they graced with cheer, celebration and alas, grief. An adormement that, sadly, won’t last reminding us, neither will we.
Did John Jacob Astor have a boutonniere in his lapel when he went down on the Titanic?
Did he order his a week in advance?