I already know you love beautiful things because, duh, you love us. So it shouldn’t take much arm twisting for you Dallasites to scoot your booties down to Lower Greenville to visit Bows and Arrows. It’s a wee lovely space where you can feel like a kid in a goddamn candy shop (if candy shops were actually flower shops, you moron). But before we get to the flowers, let’s get to the ephemera. Which is not the correct use of that word, but HEY LOOK FUN STUFF:
But, of course, the real action is of the pistils and stamens variety. For anyone planning a fancy-pantsy event or (shotgun? arranged? greencard necessitated?) wedding, this is the place for flowers arrangements that aren’t half as stuffy as a mummified corpse locked in a trunk in my attic. Not that I know anything about that, officer.
They even offer classes! The only thing I can arrange is hits on ex-boyfriends, but you should try your hand at making pretty things. No, I’m sorry, you can’t make my likeness out of African Orchids, but I appreciate the thought.
Anyway, if you want your experience to be as lovely as mine, you’ll need to do three things:
1. Have your boyfriend accidentally pour a vase of water down your pants and into your shoes. (Subsequently: withhold sex for three days).
2. Have an oddly motionless Katy Perry dance party with small-to-medium amounts of shame.
3. Whore out your blog to darling boys who are possibly named Christman, which, if that’s right, just got 50 times cooler when I typed it and realized how Jesusy it is.*
*Okay, apparently it’s Crisman. Another day, another crushed dream. Thanks a lot, JESUS.