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FeedWouldn't it be fabulous?
Splurge on plants with cachet—without breaking the bank
By bonnie blodgett
Photo by Judy White / www.gardenphotos.com
Gardeners are no different, except we dream of splurging on plants. Pity the gardener who professes indifference to coral bells with amazing foliage and window boxes spilling over with tropical plants. This type doesn’t understand why people want Japanese painted ferns instead of ostrich ferns, or Japanese maples in addition to the fiery-only-in-fall varieties that are hardy in Zone 4 and thus ubiquitous.
Though my kitchen is still vintage 1985 (I’m counting on Formica making a comeback before I sell my house), there are a few plants I simply must have for their, well, you might call it “snob appeal,” but I call it style. Allow me to introduce you to some of the high-class flora I speak of: heucheras, like purple-leaved ‘Obsidian’ and amber-colored ‘Peach Flambe’ (call them coral bells; I do), and Japanese painted ferns (Athyrium niponicum ‘Pictum’), preferably in combination with the green-and-cream ‘Patriot’ hosta or chartreuse H. sieboldiana ‘Elegans’. Or maybe the even trendier sedges, such as Carex morrowii ‘variegata’ or the new ‘Lemon Zest’.
Since I garden on a tight budget, I’ve gotten pretty good at finding great plants at discount prices. Closet garden snobs must be prepared to do some slumming. I mean no disrespect to indispensable establishments such as Home Depot and your local Ace Hardware, but generally these non-specialist plant sellers target the non-expert gardener. I’m talking about someone who is just as happy with the Perennial Plant Association award winners as with the latest thing from Terra Nova Nurseries (a world-famous plant breeder).
Don’t get me wrong, PPA picks are great plants. But being selected immediately lowers a plant’s status. It is branded low-maintenance and common, and is instantly available everywhere. As a result, it takes a gardener who’s good at throwing together unusual plant combinations to redeem its tarnished image; much in the way some women can make magic happen with a pair of jeans just by adding the right belt. (I stand in awe.)
The wonderful ‘Moonbeam’ coreopsis is one such plant—an exceptionally worthy cultivar surpassed in fabulousness in my garden only by Terra Nova’s new ‘Autumn Blush’ and ‘Snowberry’, which are not as hardy as ‘Moonbeam’. Other PPA plants that I love (and grow) are salvia ‘May Night’, Russian sage, ‘Sunny Border Blue’ veronica, ‘Goldsturm’ rudbeckia (black-eyed Susan), and Calamagrostis x acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’ (feather reed grass).
Add to this list of nonentities the everblooming daylilies, led by the small superstar ‘Stella de Oro’. This spring, however, they will all be moved from my very public front garden to the compost heap. I am thoroughly sick of seeing them and their clones at McDonald’s. While these “reliable performers” will likely predominate at low-price plant outlets, hiding out among the masses of the mundane you will occasionally find a plant with bona fide snob appeal.
Last summer I was at the Home Depot picking up some ‘Crimson Pygmy’ barberry, a delightful plant that is, alas, no longer on the verge of over-use abuse. (Been to McDonald’s lately? You’ll find them with the potentillas and everblooming daylilies.) I wanted this lowbrow shrub because it’s just the right shape for the hedge I had in mind, and buying two dozen boxwoods was not in my budget. Just after I paid for the barberries, I spotted a batch of ‘Wintergreen’ boxwoods hiding behind some yews. My heart sank.
Starting over isn’t really an option on a Saturday afternoon when the line I just got through to pay for my three carts of shrubs is now stretching out to the parking lot. Besides, fancy plants like boxwoods aren’t always worth the fancy price. This particular box, for example, is rated to Zone 5. Have you seen what Zone 5 boxwood looks like after an unusually cold winter? Not pretty.
When I say “low-cost,” I’m not necessarily talking only about the numbers on the price tag. I’m an impatient gardener, so I’m seldom willing to make the trek to Eagan or anywhere else more than five miles away from my garden. I shop at small nurseries close to home (and the local Ace Hardware which is half a block away). Prices are usually higher, but I save on gas and time, and I can more comfortably transport a 7-foot columnar magnolia in the trunk of my car without risking its decapitation on the freeway.
Moreover, I know that my plant guarantee will be honored because these people know me—which is especially important when buying a Zone 5 plant. Let’s face it: Zone 5 plants have the most snob appeal in our still-borderline Zone 5 gardens. It’s like anything else—orchids, Ferraris, divas. Temperamental means desirable, which means expensive. Don’t ask me why. Ask a psychologist.
Another rule of thumb for those striving for snob appeal: Catalogs are great for window-shopping, not so great for bargain-shopping. Forget about White Flower Farm and their ilk unless price is no object. Do consult this catalog if you’re insecure. It might help you winnow down your choices, but bear in mind it wouldn’t be caught dead selling a plant that lacked cachet. Hence the hefty markup. You’re paying a premium for White Flower Farm’s stamp of approval. Maybe that’s worth it to you. It was to me when I was a beginning gardener.
Finally, cultivate relationships with other gardeners and share your treasures. Keep track of who has what and offer to trade a leaf cutting, division, or seed from your treasures for the same from theirs. This is by far the cheapest way I know to expand one’s selection of fabulous plants. They won’t come with a guarantee, but be honest: Is that really what you’re after?
Bonnie Blodgett publishes The Garden Letter, and is writing a book about smell.
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