January in a flower shop is a very special season. Not in a flowers-blooming-everywhere kind of way, but in a I survived December and am still standing kind of way.
After the chaos of the holidays—where poinsettias ruled the land and ribbons multiplied like rabbits—January arrives quietly. Too quietly. The phone stops ringing. The cooler hum becomes my main coworker. And suddenly, I have time. So much time.
The Month of New Beginnings (and Empty Vases)
Customers in January come in with optimism. You can see it in their eyes.
“This year,” they say, “I’m going to buy myself flowers more often.”
I smile. I nod. I’ve heard this before. January is the month of big promises—gym memberships, juice cleanses, and the idea that fresh tulips will definitely fix everything. And honestly? I fully support that belief.
I also make resolutions:
Organize the ribbon drawer (again)
Label the vases (again)
Stop buying “just one more” plant for the shop (I will not stop)
Flowers vs. Winter
Outside, January is gray. Inside the shop, I’m fighting back with color like it’s my full-time job—because it is.
Bright gerberas stare winter down defiantly. Ranunculus show up looking fancy for no reason at all. Tulips stretch dramatically, like they also hate the cold but are trying to be positive about it.
Meanwhile, I wrap bouquets in scarves (okay, paper sleeves) and whisper encouragement to every stem: You can do this.
The Slow Season Glow-Up
January is when I become a philosopher.
I clean things I forgot existed. I rearrange displays just to feel something. I experiment with designs that would never survive Valentine’s Day madness. I drink coffee like it’s a competitive sport.
And when a customer does walk in, it’s magical.
“Just because,” they say.
Those are my favorite words.
The Calm Before the Roses
January knows what’s coming. Valentine’s Day is lurking around the corner, sharpening its thorns. But for now, January lets me breathe. It lets me admire the simple joy of a single bouquet. It reminds me why I fell in love with flowers in the first place.
So if you walk into my flower shop in January, know this:
You’re not just buying flowers.
You’re giving me something to do—and I am thrilled.
And yes, I’ll absolutely help you pick something cheerful. January could use it.