There I was, Tuesday morning, clutching what remained of our anniversary bouquet like some kind of botanical crime scene investigator. Forty quid down the drain for what looked like roses that had been through a food processor. Petals everywhere, stems bent at impossible angles, and this ridiculously cheerful card chirping "Hope these brighten your day!"
Well, they certainly did that. Nothing quite brightens your day like realizing you've been properly mugged off by a flower company.
Most normal people would've written a snarky review and moved on with their lives. But apparently I'm not most people. Something snapped in my brain - maybe it was the sheer brass neck of charging dinner-for-two money for what looked like roadkill, or maybe I was just furious about ruining our special day.
Either way, I did something completely mental. I ordered from another company the next week. Then another. And somehow, six months later, I'd spiraled into this bizarre flower delivery investigation that would make a proper obsessive-compulsive look reasonable.
By the end of it all, I'd tested 138 different bouquets. My postman thinks I'm running some kind of underground florist operation. The neighbors have given up asking questions. And somehow I've become the person everyone messages when they need flower recommendations.
All because one company couldn't work out how to get roses from point A to point B without committing horticultural genocide.
Look, I can see you scrolling for the actual answers, so here they are:
Bloom & Wild - Does exactly what it says on the tin, every bloody time
Arena Flowers - Proper ethical stuff without making you feel guilty about existing
Interflora - Real people making real flowers (shocking concept)
Flower Station - London's 24-hour flower heroes for romantic emergencies
Bunches - When you've ballsed up and need flowers yesterday
But stick around for the horror stories - they'll make you feel much better about your own bad decisions, and you might actually learn something useful.
Here's the thing everyone gets wrong: you're killing your flowers before they even have a chance. Most people see those big, showy roses putting on a full display and think "yes, those are the ones." Wrong. Dead wrong. You want the shy ones, the tight little buds that look like they can't be arsed to open yet.
The second your flowers rock up, grab the sharpest knife you own (those "flower scissors" from the garden center are about as useful as a chocolate teapot) and hack two inches off every stem. Sharp angle. You're making drinking straws, basically.
Now here's where people completely lose their minds - they think changing the water is optional. It's not. Every three days, chuck it all out, give that vase a proper scrub like you're destroying evidence, and trim another bit off the stems. Fresh water every time. Don't be lazy about this.
Strip off any leaves below the waterline while you're at it. Leave them there and your lovely flowers will start smelling like a backed-up toilet within a day or two. Trust me on this one.
Those manky outer petals on roses that make you panic? They're guard petals. Nature's bubble wrap. Your roses have just survived being shipped halfway across Europe, so give them 24 hours to sort themselves out. Then you can gently peel off those protective layers and reveal the proper flowers underneath.
It's weirdly satisfying, like unwrapping the world's most expensive present very, very slowly. When a proper florist first showed me this, I felt like I'd discovered some massive trade secret.
Most people take one look at those rough edges and think they've been ripped off, so they chuck perfectly good roses in the bin. Meanwhile, anyone who knows this trick gets two weeks of gorgeous flowers while everyone else is wondering why theirs always die so quickly.
And that sunny windowsill that looks perfect for Instagram? Don't. It'll cook your flowers faster than you can say "lifestyle content." Find somewhere with decent light but no direct sun, and keep them away from radiators unless you want dried flowers.
This wasn't supposed to become some massive investigation. It just... happened. I dragged mates and family into it, basically turned them into unwilling test subjects while I documented everything like some kind of floral forensics expert.
Every company got the same treatment. I broke their websites, wound up their customer service, and made my test subjects rate everything from packaging to how long the bloody things lasted.
You know that moment when you find the perfect bouquet, fall in love with it, then discover it costs more than your weekly shop once they've added delivery, cards, vases, and whatever other random bollocks they've snuck in? We put every website through this particular nightmare.
The good ones made it easy - proper photos that actually looked like what turned up, honest pricing, search filters that didn't make you want to throw your laptop out the window. The rubbish ones made buying flowers feel like applying for a mortgage while wearing a blindfold.
Doesn't matter how gorgeous your arrangement is if it turns up looking like it's been used for football practice. So we became delivery detectives. Some companies wrapped everything in enough bubble wrap to protect a nuclear bomb. Others apparently thought a carrier bag would do the job.
My absolute favorite disaster? Finding rotting roses scattered across my neighbor's car bonnet three days after ordering, while getting bouncy automated emails insisting delivery had been "completed successfully to customer satisfaction."
This is where flowers really get you - right in the emotions. We obsessed over that crucial first moment. Does opening the box make you gasp and immediately grab your phone? Or are you writing polite thank-you messages while secretly planning revenge reviews?
Our sneakiest test was deliberately mangling gift messages - "Hapy Birthday" and "Congrajulations" - to see which companies actually bothered reading what they were printing. Most completely ignored our deliberate spelling disasters.
What we thought: 93/100
Their website just works. No fighting with broken search functions or playing guessing games about what "dusty rose" actually means. What you see really is what shows up at your door - revolutionary stuff in the flower world.
Their flowers don't just survive delivery; they absolutely thrive. While other companies' bouquets were looking knackered by Wednesday, Bloom & Wild's were still putting on a proper show two weeks later.
Why they're brilliant: Their suggestions feel like advice from someone who actually knows flowers, not desperate attempts to flog you more stuff. The vases they sell are actually nice enough to keep. Their environmental stuff feels genuine - proper certifications and carbon tracking without making you feel guilty for wanting nice flowers.
The reality check: Coverage isn't everywhere, and their seasonal thing means you can't always get emergency next-day delivery when you've forgotten something crucial.
Need to know: £19-£92, letterbox delivery available, free next-day delivery
What we thought: 91/100
If you worry about flower miles and worker conditions, Arena Flowers sorts you right out without making you compromise on beauty. Fairtrade everything, tree planting, ditched plastic - proper impressive stuff without being holier-than-thou about it.
Here's what properly knocked our socks off: every single test recipient said they'd order again. In fifteen years of testing random stuff, I've never seen 100% approval for anything.
What impressed us: Everything turned up absolutely pristine with proper hydration systems. Most sailed past the ten-day mark still looking spectacular. Their seasonal rotation means you get flowers that actually want to be alive at that time of year.
Where they stumble: Website navigation is a right pain when you're after something specific. Gift add-ons are pretty basic compared to competitors.
The details: £28-£95, free next-day delivery nationwide
What we thought: 90/100
Interflora's different - proper local florists actually make your arrangement, not some bloke in a warehouse. Each bouquet's slightly unique, but you get real craftsmanship instead of factory uniformity.
Where they absolutely shine: Coverage reaches everywhere, and they'll do same-day delivery if you order before 3pm. Perfect for those "oh bollocks, it's our anniversary" emergencies.
Minor moans: Website looks a bit 2010, though they do thoughtfully offer lily-free arrangements for people with allergies.
Key stuff: £37-£500, same-day or advance booking options
What we thought: 90/100
Proper substantial arrangements plus genuine 24-hour London delivery. Actual middle-of-the-night flower service for when normal hours just won't cut it.
What properly amazed us: Our test bouquet lasted five full days beyond its promised lifespan. We tried midnight deliveries, dawn deliveries, Sunday deliveries - all worked perfectly.
The trade-offs: Outside London it's Tuesday-Saturday only. One test bouquet had a dead rose, though everything else was spot on.
Need to know: £27.50-£895, London same-day service, nationwide tracking
What we thought: 89/100
Need flowers tomorrow but it's already past 10pm? Bunches delivers seven days a week for £3.99. Their website actually makes sense too - imagine that.
What worked: Flowers looked exactly like the website photos. Not "sort of similar if you squint" - actually identical. Their loyalty scheme offers proper rewards too.
Minor gripes: Coverage gets a bit patchy outside major cities. Environmental credentials aren't as strong as some competitors.
The basics: £25-£150, 24-hour London delivery
What we thought: 88/100
FlowerBx does something completely different - luxury single-variety arrangements. If someone's properly obsessed with peonies, this is where you'll find them done right.
Mad consistency: Every single delivery matched the photos exactly. Everything turned up bang on time with proper wow factor.
The catch: Outside London, check your postcode first. Nothing worse than falling in love with an arrangement they can't actually deliver to you.
Details: £40-£3,895, free standard delivery nationwide
What we thought: 88/100
Specializes in arrangements that make people stop scrolling - those hand-tied masterpieces that look stunning both in real life and in photos.
Small moans: Couple of stems looked a bit sorry for themselves on arrival, though they perked up after a day or two. Some foliage went soft after about a week.
The facts: £25-£100, next-day delivery seven days a week
The flower industry is basically one massive con trick with your wallet. Here's what actually happens to your hard-earned cash.
Those "free delivery" promises disappear faster than good intentions on New Year's Day. Free usually means accepting whatever courier feels like showing up whenever they can be bothered. Want guaranteed time slots or weekend delivery? That's going to cost you extra.
Bunches gets proper credit for honesty - their upfront £3.99 delivery fee beats nasty surprises at checkout every single time.
Flower prices swing more wildly than Bitcoin. We tracked identical bouquets for three months and watched prices jump 60% based on nothing but seasonal whims. Valentine's Day doubles everything overnight, while post-Christmas sales offer genuine bargains if you're brave enough to send flowers in January.
Smart move: Arena Flowers and Interflora both let you book ahead at current prices. We locked in Mother's Day arrangements in January, saving nearly £20 per bouquet compared to last-minute shoppers.
After hundreds of deliveries, proper patterns emerged. Success rarely depends on spending more money - it's about understanding basic human psychology that nobody ever mentions.
The best surprises hit emotional sweet spots. Tuesday afternoon deliveries land completely differently than Friday ones. Recipients seem genuinely more delighted, less stressed, and actually have time to properly enjoy their flowers.
Same-day delivery sounds romantic but often backfires completely - creates panic for you and stress for delivery teams trying to work miracles against impossible deadlines.
Weird discovery from our testing: medium arrangements consistently impressed recipients more than massive ones. There's apparently an optimal size where flowers feel luxurious without being intimidating.
Those enormous arrangements that photograph beautifully can actually make people uncomfortable in normal homes - where exactly do you put a bouquet that needs its own planning permission?
Generic gift messages land like junk mail. Specific, personal notes like "Hope these brighten your new office" work infinitely better than "Happy Birthday" or "Thinking of you."
Think of flowers as incredibly fragile fresh produce that's also carrying someone's emotions. Every hour spent in poor conditions shows up loud and clear in what eventually reaches your door.
Companies that consistently deliver gorgeous bouquets invest massive amounts in refrigerated transport and handling protocols that would impress pharmaceutical companies. Bloom & Wild's facility looks like something from a medical research lab - different temperature zones for different flower types, constant monitoring, workers treating each stem like it's made of glass.
Budget operators just chuck flowers in regular delivery vans for hours on end, which perfectly explains those tragic arrivals that look defeated before you've even unwrapped them.
Interflora's local network creates genuine variation. Your arrangement gets crafted by someone who actually lives in your recipient's area, introducing natural differences while guaranteeing real artistry instead of factory precision.
We tested this by ordering the same arrangement across five different cities. Result? Five completely unique creations - some were absolutely stunning works of art, others were competent but forgettable. It's both Interflora's greatest strength and biggest weakness rolled into one.
Centralized services like FlowerBx eliminate variation but sacrifice local knowledge. Their London drivers know every single building personally. Send them to rural Scotland and complications multiply like rabbits.
Monthly flower subscriptions promise seasonal magic materializing like clockwork. Reality delivers everything from life-changing weekly joy to crushing disappointment that makes you question your judgment.
Bloom & Wild absolutely nails seasonal storytelling that feels deliberate rather than random. January brings stark winter branches with promising bulbs just starting to show, while July unleashes wild meadow arrangements that capture proper countryside summers.
FlowerBx takes a completely different approach - single-variety obsessions. Six months exploring tulip varieties you didn't know existed, or twelve months following seasonal progressions that actually teach you something meaningful.
Budget services promise magical economics: £30 worth of flowers for just £20 monthly. What actually materializes? Exactly £20 worth of flowers dressed up in clever marketing copy.
We tracked absolutely everything - stem quantities, bloom quality, arrangement sophistication. The arithmetic almost never supports those heavily discounted promises that sound too good to be true.
Even worse, many services front-load subscriptions with impressive first deliveries, then quietly reduce quality for subsequent months. By month three, some were sending arrangements that looked like petrol station impulse buys compared to those show-stopping inaugural bouquets.
Where you live fundamentally shapes your flower delivery experience in ways that go far beyond simple distance from warehouses.
Londoners get the full royal treatment - same-day delivery that actually happens, multiple time windows to fit your schedule, premium couriers who treat packages properly. Downside? Premium prices for everything and traffic that regularly demolishes carefully planned delivery schedules.
Flower Station's 24-hour London operation isn't marketing nonsense - they genuinely show up at 2am for romantic emergencies. Whether your recipient appreciates being woken up by the doorbell at midnight is an entirely different question.
Nothing exposes delivery service limitations quite like Highland addresses that look straightforward on maps but hide logistical nightmares. Postcode blacklists grow longer by the mile, next-day delivery becomes next-week delivery, and costs balloon through sneaky "remote area" surcharges.
This is where Interflora's old-school network approach suddenly makes brilliant sense. Their local partnerships mean even the most isolated spots get proper attention from people who actually know the terrain and have spent years working out reliable delivery routes.
Nobody predicted that leaving the EU would mess with flower deliveries, but here we are. Services that source heavily from Dutch growers sometimes can't guarantee Northern Ireland delivery because customs rules seem to shift with whatever way the political wind's blowing.
Arena Flowers earns genuine respect for upfront honesty - they clearly mark Northern Ireland availability for every single arrangement with frank explanations about the bureaucratic nightmare instead of letting customers stumble into nasty surprises during checkout.
Anyone can send Valentine's roses when reminded by every shop window in the country. The finest services excel at emotionally charged situations where flowers can either mend relationships or cause spectacular disasters that echo for years.
When handling sympathy orders, customer service transforms from polite helpfulness into life-or-death precision. A single late delivery or thoughtless mistake creates lasting damage that no apology can ever repair.
Interflora's decades of funeral flower experience shows in everything - arrangement designs that capture appropriate solemnity, delivery systems that treat punctuality as completely non-negotiable, and backup procedures for when Murphy's Law threatens to strike at the worst possible moment.
Haute Florist surprised us with modern sympathy arrangements that feel authentic to contemporary grief while still honoring traditional reverence. Their consultation team guided us through cultural nuances we'd never even considered.
Business flower orders operate in a completely different universe from personal ones. Office deliveries must account for reception logistics, corporate color schemes, and professional presentation standards that can make or break important business relationships.
FlowerBx excels with corporate account management, understanding that businesses need consistent quality, predictable pricing, and arrangements that photograph well for social media marketing. Their single-variety approach works perfectly for brand-conscious companies wanting signature looks.
Biggest corporate mistake we observed? Services completely ignoring scale considerations. Personal-sized bouquets disappear entirely in large office receptions, creating situations where beautiful flowers get completely overlooked by everyone.
Tracking flower quality, pricing, and availability across complete seasonal cycles revealed insider knowledge about optimal timing for maximum impact and value that could save you serious money.
March through May offers ideal combinations of variety, quality, and competitive pricing that make every other season look expensive by comparison. British growers reach peak production, import logistics stabilize after winter disruptions, and services compete aggressively following Valentine's Day revenue peaks.
Spring consistently produced the highest satisfaction ratings across every single service we evaluated. Something about that season unleashes the absolute best in both blooms and the people handling them.
Summer appears to be flower heaven until you realize scorching temperatures transform delivery vehicles into botanical crematoriums. We documented devastating heat casualties even from supposedly premium services claiming proper refrigerated logistics.
Arena Flowers switches to early morning deliveries during heat waves, while Bloom & Wild reinforces their summer operations with comprehensive heat-damage replacement policies that actually work. These aren't clever marketing ploys - they're essential survival tactics.
January and February transform into treasure troves for savvy shoppers prepared to work within the heavier emphasis on roses and traditional romantic arrangements. Services frantically offload Valentine's Day surplus at genuinely attractive prices.
Premium providers like FlowerBx frequently roll out generous new customer incentives during these slower periods, making their normally prohibitively expensive luxury arrangements available at refreshingly affordable rates.
Modern flower delivery succeeds or fails based on communication quality, genuine transparency, and realistic expectation management through digital systems that enhance rather than complicate the customer experience.
Bloom & Wild's smartphone app establishes the absolute benchmark with reliable real-time tracking, photographic delivery confirmations, and effortless reordering that makes regular flower sending completely seamless.
Their augmented reality feature lets you preview arrangements in your actual space before ordering, preventing those awful size disappointment disasters. True app quality emerges during genuine crises when everything goes wrong.
Flower Station includes live chat with actual florists, not generic customer service representatives reading from scripts. When our test delivery reached the wrong office floor, their florist contacted the recipient directly and resolved everything within minutes rather than hours.
Nothing reveals company priorities quite like problem-handling capabilities when customers need genuine help rather than polite brush-offs. We threw every conceivable crisis at all the services to see how they handled real pressure.
Arena Flowers assigns actual account managers to subscription customers, creating real relationships instead of treating you like transaction number 47,293. Haute Florist puts trained florists on their customer service phones who can suggest sensible alternatives when your first choice isn't available.
Budget services often farm out customer support to distant call centers where representatives have clearly never laid eyes on the products they're meant to be discussing. Nothing quite matches the frustration of describing wilted roses to someone reading from a script who's obviously never seen a rose in their life.
Let me tell you about some spectacular failures that made me question every life choice that led to this point. There was the company that somehow managed to deliver my tulips to the wrong bloody country - not just wrong address, completely wrong country. My poor aunt in Wales got someone else's birthday surprise while some confused person in Belgium probably wondered why they'd received flowers for "Happy 70th Aunty Margaret."
Then there was what I now call "The Great Carnation Catastrophe of April." Ordered what their website promised was a gorgeous mixed seasonal bouquet, received what can only be described as a handful of garage forecourt carnations wrapped in tissue paper that looked like it had been used to clean car windscreens. The delivery note cheerfully announced "Premium seasonal selection as ordered!" I kept that note. Framed it, actually. Reminds me exactly why I started this whole mental journey.
But the absolute worst was during my mother's birthday. I'd ordered what their website described as an "elegant arrangement of garden roses and peonies suitable for special celebrations." What arrived looked like someone had grabbed random flowers from a motorway roundabout and shoved them in a jam jar. Mum, bless her, pretended to love them while I died inside knowing I'd completely ruined her day. That night I ordered from three different companies just to prove they weren't all completely useless. Spoiler alert: some definitely are.
Nobody warns you about the weird stuff that happens when you accidentally become the neighborhood flower expert. My local postman, Dave, now gives me weekly updates on which delivery services are actually treating packages properly. "That Bloom & Wild van was back yesterday," he'll say, nodding approvingly. "Driver actually rang the bell and waited properly. Not like that cowboy from the budget place who just chucks stuff over people's garden fences."
My kitchen window has become an unofficial flower recovery ward. Friends drop off their dying bouquets like I'm running some sort of botanical hospital service. "Can you save these?" they plead, clutching sad roses like wounded animals. Most of the time, actually, yes. Amazing what a proper stem trim and completely fresh water can achieve when you know what you're doing.
The weirdest bit? I've developed this proper sixth sense about flower quality just from looking at photos. Friends send me screenshots before ordering, and I can usually predict complete disaster from about twenty pixels of rose petals. "Don't," I'll text back immediately. "That's obviously stock photography from 2015 and those roses are definitely plastic."
Month three of testing multiple subscriptions simultaneously, my partner sat me down for what they called "a proper intervention." Our flat looked like a florist's shop had exploded during a particularly violent earthquake. Every available surface was covered in vases at different stages of the flower lifecycle, test bouquets in various stages of decay, and that distinctive sweet-sour smell of flowers past their prime lingering in absolutely every room.
"I found dead lilies in the bathroom this morning," they said quietly, like they were reporting a crime. "Behind the toilet brush. How does that even happen?"
Honestly, I couldn't remember anymore. By that point I was receiving four different weekly subscriptions, plus random test orders from companies I was investigating, plus emergency same-day deliveries whenever friends needed urgent recommendations. I'd completely lost track of which arrangements belonged to which service. Some mornings I'd wake up and find mystery flowers I couldn't remember ordering, like some sort of botanical amnesia.
The absolute breaking point came when we had dinner guests over and I spent the entire evening explaining the detailed provenance of each arrangement instead of actually talking to anyone like a normal human being. "Those roses are from Arena Flowers, day six of my longevity testing. Note how the outer petals are just starting to soften but the centers remain perfectly tight. The tulips are FlowerBx, single variety, premium grade - see that stem length? That's genuine quality right there."
Our friends left early. Can't imagine why.
"We need proper rules," my partner announced the next morning, surveying the floral chaos like a disaster zone. "Or I'm seriously moving out."
We established what became known as the "three vase maximum" rule. Any more than three arrangements in the flat at any one time, and I had to give some away immediately. It was much harder than you'd think. Each bouquet represented crucial data points, longevity testing, comparative analysis that would be lost forever. But our relationship survived. Just about.
Spending six months answering doors at all hours of the day and night taught me things about delivery drivers that most people never see. The brilliant ones treat your flowers like they're carrying newborn babies wrapped in silk. The awful ones clearly see them as just another package to get rid of as quickly as possible.
Best driver story: Marcus from Flower Station, who showed up at actual midnight during my 24-hour delivery testing. Not only did he arrive exactly on time, he'd brought extra water tubes from his van because "these orchids looked a bit thirsty during transport." Turned out he'd been a proper florist for twenty years before becoming a driver and couldn't bear seeing flowers suffer unnecessarily.
Worst driver story: Budget service (won't name them, but it rhymes with "Cheap Sheets"), driver who couldn't be bothered walking up two flights of stairs to my flat, so he actually called me down to collect my own flowers from his van parked outside. Then had the absolute cheek to ask if I had change for a twenty-pound note because he'd forgotten his wallet. The flowers were already wilting in his overheated van, and half the stems had snapped during whatever rough handling had occurred during transport.
The dedicated drivers actually remember regular customers. Dave from Interflora now knows I'm "the flower testing lady" and always brings extra care instruction cards. Sarah from Bunches once spent twenty minutes helping me photograph different packaging methods because she was genuinely curious about my testing methodology. These are people who genuinely care about doing their job properly, not just fulfilling delivery quotas as quickly as possible.
Let's be brutally honest about what this obsession actually cost me financially. Six months of systematic testing across multiple services: £3,847. Yes, I kept every single receipt. My partner insisted on this after they spotted the credit card statements and nearly had a proper breakdown.
But here's the thing that makes it even worse - it wasn't just the money spent on flowers. Time invested in researching companies, photographing every delivery, documenting results, chasing customer service when things went wrong. If I'd charged myself minimum wage for all the hours invested in this madness, we're looking at roughly £8,000 total. I could've bought a decent second-hand car for what I spent learning about British flower delivery standards.
The most expensive single order? £127 from a so-called premium service that promised "museum-quality floral arrangements suitable for the most special celebrations." What actually arrived looked like someone had raided their elderly neighbor's garden and wrapped the random results in brown paper. When I complained about receiving what was obviously garden weeds, they offered me a £5 credit note. Five pounds. On a £127 order that resembled something you'd find growing wild on a railway embankment.
Cheapest surprise winner? £18 from a budget service I'd already written off completely as hopeless. Absolutely gorgeous seasonal mix that lasted nearly three weeks and came with the sweetest handwritten note from their actual florist. Sometimes the flower gods smile on you when you least expect it.
Something nobody ever tells you: flower services have personalities that change dramatically with the seasons. Companies that excel during spring can become complete disasters during summer heat waves. Services that nail Valentine's Day might crumble completely during the Mother's Day rush.
Bloom & Wild, for instance, becomes a completely different company in December. Their usually rock-solid next-day delivery stretches to three days minimum, their carefully curated seasonal arrangements get replaced with generic "winter collections" that feel mass-produced, and their customer service becomes noticeably less helpful. It's like watching your favorite restaurant hire a completely new chef who doesn't understand the existing menu.
Conversely, some services somehow find their groove during challenging periods. Arena Flowers actually gets better during summer heat waves. Their packaging adapts to hot weather, delivery times shift to early morning slots, and they start including cooling packs that actually work properly. It's almost like they've accepted summer as their personal challenge and risen to meet it head-on.
FlowerBx goes completely mental during peony season in the best possible way. Their single-variety obsession reaches absolute fever pitch, and suddenly they're offering seventeen different peony cultivars I'd never heard of from specialist growers. It's their moment to properly shine, and they grab it with both hands.
After 138 bouquets, countless customer service arguments, three proper relationship crises, and enough spreadsheet data to power a small university research project, I've learned something important: some companies genuinely understand what they're doing and care about delivering beautiful flowers that arrive intact and last properly. Others are just winging it completely and hoping customers don't notice the difference.
The good news? You don't have to repeat my expensive mistakes or put your relationships at risk. The companies I've recommended actually know their business and deliver on their promises. The disasters I've documented can be easily avoided if you know what warning signs to look for.
My partner still thinks I'm slightly unhinged, but they admit our flat has never looked better. And occasionally, just occasionally, we get that perfect delivery that reminds me exactly why I started this whole mad journey in the first place. Those magical moments when beautiful flowers arrive exactly as promised, bringing genuine joy to someone's day - that's what makes the entire crazy experience worthwhile.
Just don't tell Dave the postman I'm thinking of testing plant delivery services next. I'm not sure our friendship could survive another obsession.