If you've read a few of these blog posts by now, you probably already know that Luna—that's me—is extremely picky.
About the flowers.
About the packaging.
Even about the shipping boxes.
I notice everything.
Recently, for Father's Day, we introduced something new at our physical store—a newsagency on the Gold Coast.
Balloon gift boxes.
Basically, there's a bubble balloon filled with lots of smaller balloons, with chocolates, snacks and other little gifts arranged underneath.
We created them as another gifting option for people in our local community.
So for the past month, I've spent a ridiculous amount of time making balloon gift boxes.
Inflating balloons.
Arranging snacks.
Sticking things together.
And naturally, when I first started making them, I approached them exactly the same way I approach our preserved flowers.
Which was a terrible idea.
😂
One balloon gift box could take me almost an hour.
This piece of tape can't be visible.
That hot glue can't show.
This chocolate is angled five degrees too far.
Those chips are three centimetres too low.
The bow isn't perfectly symmetrical.
The tissue paper is opening at a slightly strange angle.
Everything bothered me.
And I was absolutely exhausted.
😂
Eventually, I became faster.
But I also realised something important.
My customers didn't care about most of those tiny details nearly as much as I did.
So I relaxed my standards a little.
Not enough to make them messy, of course.
Just enough to stop measuring the angle of a chocolate bar with my eyes.
😂
And suddenly, I could make them much faster.
Then one day, in the middle of making all these balloon gift boxes, an order came through for one of our preserved flower arrangements.
A Signature 5 bouquet.
So I stopped what I was doing and went to pack it.
I opened the black gift box.
And...
Wow.
My first thought was:
What is this fancy thing?!
😂
It looked SO good.
The textured black box.
The wrapping paper.
The flowers.
Everything.
It felt like it belonged in a completely different world from the balloon gift boxes I'd been making all month.
And that was strange.
Because I've looked at these bouquets hundreds of times.
Normally, I'm the person staring at them thinking,
"This rose has a tiny crease."
"That flower is leaning slightly to the side."
"This one could sit 2 millimetres higher."
I see every tiny imperfection.
But after spending weeks making balloon gift boxes, I suddenly looked at my Signature 5 again and thought:
This is actually so beautiful.
Elegant.
Detailed.
Premium.
Everything worked together.
And for the first time in a while, I think I understood what my customers might feel when they open one of our gift boxes for the first time.
They haven't spent months staring at every rose.
They don't know that I once obsessed over the wrapping paper.
Or the box.
Or whether one flower was sitting slightly too far to the left.
They simply open a textured black gift box...
and see this beautiful bouquet inside.
That little moment of surprise.
That feeling that they've opened something really special.
For some reason, after making balloon gift boxes for a month, I finally got to experience a little bit of that feeling myself.
And all I could think was...
Wow.
From the box to the flowers, this really is beautiful.
😂
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