I can buy myself flowers

Miley Cyrus sang these lyrics in her hit single from her album Endless Summer Vacation in 2023. At the time, it seemed to hit quite a nerve in pop culture. Initially, I thought it was strange to make such a big deal about buying yourself flowers...

Flowers feel like an ultimate luxury. They are never "necessary." They have no true functionality (okay, yes, there are edible flowers that nice restaurants might put in your salad) — they just stand there in a vase and look nice until they don't. When they've wilted, they make a mess and you have to throw them out. A reminder that beauty is a fleeting moment in time.

So if you buy yourself flowers, it is a big deal.

A few years ago, I met a friend through work. She's a single mom and we went to lunch once a month. The second time we met, she stopped at this cute flower shop outside the place we'd just finished eating Middle Eastern food. I asked her if she was invited somewhere later or whose birthday it was, as she was looking at flowers.

"No, I usually buy myself a nice bouquet of flowers once or twice a month. For no special reason other than that it makes me happy."

It sounded like such a grown-up thing to do. At the time, I was working for a start-up and lived in a flatshare, so I'd never considered spending money on flowers for myself! It was something I'd buy for others, and in particular for my mother.

A couple of months later, I moved on, got a job at an established company and moved into a flat of my own. Standing at the checkout in the grocery store, I saw a bouquet of orange roses that was 50% off. I remembered how that friend of mine had told me about her ritual and decided to make it one of my own. The 50% off helped me ease into the ritual, because it felt like an indulgence to just buy flowers for myself.

The minute I placed them on my kitchen table, though, I understood. It's like they radiate good energy and love. I'll plan my flower purchases around my home-office days, to enjoy looking at them as much as possible. As with many things, I take a picture of them — a little reminder of how lucky I am. Then, when they wilt, I take them out to avoid them spreading negative energy.

I have a colleague who argues that's why she doesn't like flowers — because then you have to clean up the mess the pollen and petals can leave behind. I'd argue the joy outweighs the mess, but apparently we have different flower philosophies.

The prettiest flowers I ever received were from a friend for a birthday of mine. It was my early 20s, and even my mom still talks about those flowers. It was a giant bouquet of pale pink amaryllis. There were so many we couldn't find a single vase to hold them. To this day, this flower bouquet has set the bar and is yet to be matched. I did catch a friend's bridal bouquet two years ago, which was gorgeous, but it's not the same as someone gifting you flowers.

I've also become good friends with the mother of a close friend. She is in her 70s, and she and I have this tradition of getting a Glühwein at a Christmas market in December. I had once told her about how I name all my plants at home, and she thought this was quite humorous. So she'd gifted me an amaryllis bulb that I could watch grow until Christmas — and named it Vreny.

Ever since, she's gifted me one every year, always with a new name.

I'd not realized that amaryllis flowers seem to be ones I've never bought for myself until writing this piece. They've always been gifted.

While buying yourself flowers feels empowering, the gesture of someone buying flowers for you remains special. At least to me, flowers still carry something wonderfully old-fashioned — fairy tales and princesses, romantic K-dramas and love stories.

Currently, I'm typing and smiling while looking at the sunflowers on my table. They mark summer and early fall to me — and I bought them myself.

Love F, xoxo