When the Client Says ‘Just Make It Pretty’

 It starts with a smile. That kind of easy, casual smile that says “Oh, I trust you completely”—but also hides the chaos it’s about to cause. You ask about favorite flowers, colors, the occasion. You wait for some sort of emotional cue. Instead, the answer comes back light as air: “Oh, nothing specific… just make it pretty.” The dreaded sentence that every florist fears.

You nod politely, maybe even say “Of course,” but inside your florist brain, a tiny alarm goes off. Because “pretty” is a shapeshifter. It means one thing to a bride, another to a goth teen, and something entirely different to someone ordering flowers for their neighbor’s retirement from a dental clinic.

Now you’re staring at a workbench full of options. Peonies or proteas? Sweet pastels or bold contrast? Modern angles or garden-style movement? There are no constraints, no favorites, no themes to hold on to—just an open field with no map and a ticking clock.

And this is when the real artistry begins. Not when everything is planned, but when you have to pull beauty from ambiguity.

You start by reaching for what feels right, like a florist’s version of muscle memory. A soft apricot rose. Some tangled clematis vine. Maybe a stem that curves just so, and suddenly there’s a direction. You don’t always trust it at first—but you follow.

And here’s the secret we rarely admit: sometimes “just make it pretty” is a hidden gift. It allows instinct to take the lead. It reminds you that you’re not just a technician, ticking off a checklist. You’re a translator of the unseen. You create from feeling. From color. From nothing but possibility.

Of course, not every gamble pays off. Sometimes you finish, step back, and sigh. Too safe. Too loud. Too something. But then there are days when it clicks—and the result feels like a little poem in petals. The client walks in, sees it, pauses for a heartbeat too long, and smiles in that very specific way that says: Yes. This is what I meant. Even if I didn’t know how to say it.

“Just make it pretty,” they said.

And somehow, you did.