FLOWERS AT THE TABLE

The simplest luxury you'll ever offer your guests.  There are few things that transform a table as effortlessly as flowers. No elaborate menu is required. No expensive china. No grand occasion.  Simply flowers.

Dorothy Draper understood that entertaining was not about making guests feel that they had entered a museum of perfection. It was about creating an atmosphere that was cheerful, welcoming, and alive. In Entertaining Is Fun, her philosophy of hospitality consistently returns to the idea that entertaining should be enjoyed—not endured.

Flowers belong naturally in that philosophy.   They are one of the simplest ways to say:  I thought about you before you arrived.

The table begins before the meal.  Consider the difference between an empty dining table and one prepared for company.  The plates are set.

The glasses catch the light.  The candles are waiting to be lit.  And in the center, perhaps, there is a vase of freshly gathered flowers.

Suddenly, the table isn't merely functional.  It has become an invitation.

Flowers signal that this meal is different from an ordinary Tuesday evening. They create a sense of occasion without requiring an occasion at all.  And perhaps that is their greatest luxury.  They don't have to be elaborate.  One of the great misconceptions about entertaining is that everything must be impressive.

It doesn't.  A few garden roses gathered into a small vase can be more charming than an elaborate arrangement.  A collection of little bud vases scattered down the center of a table can feel wonderfully spontaneous.  A bowl filled with seasonal flowers can bring color and life to a summer luncheon.  Even a handful of branches gathered from the garden can have extraordinary presence. The secret is not extravagance. It is intention.

Keep the conversation in mind.  There is an art to flowers at the dining table. The arrangement should never become a wall between guests.  A centerpiece may be beautiful, but if everyone has to lean around it to see the person sitting across the table, it has defeated its purpose.  For dinner, we often prefer flowers that sit comfortably within the landscape of the table—low enough to encourage conversation, loose enough to feel natural, and seasonal enough to feel as though they belong exactly where they are.  For a longer table, several smaller arrangements can be especially lovely.  They create rhythm rather than one imposing focal point.

And when the candles are lit, the flowers become part of the atmosphere rather than simply an object placed in the middle of it.

Let the season have a seat at the table.  There is no need for flowers to look the same in January as they do in June.  Part of the pleasure of entertaining is allowing the season to make an appearance.  Spring might bring tulips, lilacs, peonies, or branches gathered from the garden.  Summer invites exuberance—garden roses, hydrangeas, zinnias, dahlias, and whatever happens to be flourishing.  Autumn brings a richer vocabulary: chrysanthemums, dahlias, berries, foliage, branches, and the warm colors of the changing landscape.  Winter can be wonderfully restrained—evergreen, berries, branches, amaryllis, paperwhites, or the simple beauty of candlelight surrounded by greenery.

Flowers remind us that time is passing.  And that is precisely why they make a table feel alive.  Use the flowers you have.  There is something particularly charming about flowers that don't appear as though they were imported from another season.  A hostess needn't transform her dining room into a florist's showroom.

The garden is often enough.  A few stems clipped before guests arrive.  A small vase on the bar.  A posy beside the powder-room mirror.  A larger arrangement on the dining table.  

These small gestures have an outsized effect.  They tell your guests that their arrival has been anticipated.  The luxury is not really the flowers.  It is tempting to think of luxury as something expensive or difficult to obtain.  But perhaps the more meaningful luxury is thoughtfulness.

Taking the time to cut flowers.

Choosing the right vessel.

Changing the water.

Arranging the stems.

Setting the table.

Lighting the candles.

Preparing the room before your guests arrive.

None of these things are particularly complicated.

But together they communicate something increasingly rare:

You are worth the effort.

That is what makes flowers such a beautiful part of hospitality.

They don't announce themselves.

They simply make the room—and the people in it—feel a little more special.

The Savington & Hill philosophy

At Savington & Hill, we have always believed that flowers belong in the places where life happens.  Not only in grand arrangements for important occasions, but on the breakfast table.  In the kitchen.  At the entry.  Beside the guest bed.  And, perhaps most beautifully, at the table where friends and family have gathered to share a meal.  Because flowers aren't merely decoration.  They are part of the ritual of welcome.

And when the candles are lit, the glasses are filled, and conversation begins to linger around the table, something wonderful happens.  The flowers quietly recede into the atmosphere they helped create.  And that, perhaps, is the simplest luxury of all.

To make an ordinary evening feel worth remembering.

A thought for the week

Don't wait for a dinner party to put flowers on your table.

Buy a small bunch on Friday.

Cut something from the garden.

Put three stems in a little vase beside your breakfast plate.

Make the ordinary beautiful.

Because gracious living was never really about waiting for the perfect occasion.

It was about recognizing that today is an occasion, too.