09/25/2026
What Monday Looks Like
Nobody sees Monday.
By the time my team arrives on Tuesday, everything is already pulled, counted, labeled, and organized. The vessels are out. The stands are clean. The candles are sorted. The inventory has been checked twice. The shopping list is written.
That’s Monday.
I spend a few hours alone in the studio — just me, a cart, and a clipboard. I pull every vessel, every compote, every stand we might need for the week. I count the foam, the candles, the hurricanes. If we need two hundred hurricane vases for two back-to-back weddings, every single one has to be cleaned, checked, and ready before Tuesday morning.
And everything gets color coded.
Green tape means one event. Yellow tape means another. Every box, every vessel, every item that leaves this studio is labeled so my team never has to ask — they just read. It sounds simple. It’s the difference between a setup that runs smoothly and one that doesn’t.
I also print everything out on Monday. The proposal, the production timeline, the flower recipe cards, the diagrams — all of it goes into a binder so we can work without looking at a screen. If something is broken, missing, or needs to be replaced, I find out Monday. That gives us Tuesday to fix it before the flowers even arrive.
This is the work that keeps the beautiful work from falling apart.
It happens alone, it happens quietly, and most people never know it existed.
Dream Flowers — every event color coded, every stem accounted for, every detail handled before you ever see the flowers.
