How Much Happens Before a Single Flower Arrives

There's something couples never see in a floral project. Not because it's hidden — but because it happens before. Before the wedding day, before the installation, before the first flower is placed in its position. It happens in the weeks and months beforehand, in silence, in the workshop, inside the mind of the person designing it.

That invisible time is the most important part of the work. And almost nobody talks about it.

The First Meeting Isn't a Formality

When a couple writes to me for the first time, the floral work hasn't started yet. Something different begins — a listening. I want to understand who they are, where they're getting married, what they're imagining. I don't immediately ask about colours or favourite flowers. I ask what they want their guests to feel when they walk into the space.

That answer — sometimes immediate, sometimes built together over several conversations — is the point from which everything else grows. It's the compass of the project. Every subsequent choice, from the smallest flower to the largest composition, is measured against that answer.

This first meeting takes time. It takes attention. And it requires a willingness not to rush — on my part and on the couple's.

Studying the Venue

Before proposing anything, I study the venue. Not just the photographs — the couple already knows those. I study the light, the orientation of the spaces, the materials, the proportions. I try to understand what the space is asking for, what it tolerates and what it doesn't.

A venue like Borgo San Felice in Chianti asks for a light touch — it already has everything. A venue like Collemassari in Maremma asks for materials that belong to the territory. Castello di Velona in Montalcino asks you to rise to meet it — without overloading, without mediocrity.

Every venue is a different interlocutor. And before you can respond to it, you have to have listened.

Building the Quote

The quote isn't a document you fill in in ten minutes. It's the result of hours of work — studying materials, evaluating suppliers, calculating quantities, thinking through the proportions between spaces.

For every wedding I prepare a bespoke proposal — not a package chosen from a menu. This means every quote is different from the last, even when the venues are similar, even when the colour palettes are alike. Because the couples are different. And the project has to reflect them, not a generic formula.

This work has a cost — in time, in attention, in creative energy. It's artisan work, not automated. And it deserves, at minimum, a response.

The Time of Seasonality

Another invisible part of the work is the reasoning around seasonality. Flowers aren't always available — they change with the weeks, with the climate, with production cycles. A flower I find perfect for a May wedding might not be available in September, or might have a different quality altogether.

That's why I always work well in advance — to secure the right materials, at the right time, with the quality the project requires. A floral installation of real quality isn't improvised the week before. It's built in the preceding months, with trusted suppliers and precise planning.

This is another part of the invisible time. The logistical part — less romantic, but just as essential.

The Wedding Day

When I arrive at the venue on the wedding day, the invisible work is already done. What remains is the installation — which has its own rhythms, its own complexities, its own physicality. But it's work that proceeds along a track already defined, on choices already made, on a project already solid.

The guests see the result. They don't see the weeks of study, the conversations, the flower samples evaluated and set aside, the reasoning about proportions, the hours of preparation in the workshop before dawn.

That invisible time is the real value of a floral installation. It's what makes the difference between artisan work and a standardised service.

If you're planning a wedding in Tuscany and want to understand how I work, write to me. The conversation doesn't commit you to anything — but it's where everything begins.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

How far in advance should I contact you for a wedding in Tuscany?

Earlier is better — not just for availability, but because a floral project built with time is a different kind of project. Ideally six to twelve months before the date, especially for the most requested months like May, June and September.

How does the first conversation work?

It's exactly that — a conversation. You tell me about the venue, the date, the atmosphere you're imagining. I listen, ask a few questions, and get a sense of whether there's a shared direction. The quote comes after, once I have enough to make a concrete proposal.

Does the floral quote include all the design work?

Yes. The quote I prepare reflects the work of study, design and planning that goes into the proposal — not just the cost of the flowers and the installation. It's bespoke work, not a standardised package.

Do you work with couples who have already decided all the details of their wedding?

Yes, often. Sometimes I arrive when the project is already very defined — venue, palette, photographer. In other cases the conversation is more open. In both cases the starting point is the same: understanding what you want to feel on your wedding day..