Years ago, before Andrew and I started the business, before the kids, before any of this really, a bunch of flowers turned up for me at work. No name on the card. Just a short message that made my heart do a little flip, and pink tulips, which I noticed straight away were not red roses. Softer. Somebody had thought about it.
It took me three days to work out who sent them. Those three days were magic, I walked around that office like I had a secret of my own, which I suppose I did.
The memory came with me into the little shop on Marine Parade in Kingscliff in 2006, and onto the phones after that. So when someone wants to send flowers anonymously and is nervous about getting it wrong, I get it. The excitement, the second-guessing, the hope that the flowers will say the thing you can't quite say yet.
This is what we learned, from me, from Andrew (who has his own secret admirer habit, more on that later) and from Anna, who spent years on the bench and knows which stems still look lovely on day six.
Why a soft bunch says more than a big one
In the years I took calls from nervous secret admirers, the ones who went big were usually the ones who rang back worried. A dozen red roses is an anniversary flower, a beautiful one, and we send a lot of them for exactly that. As a first move from a name the recipient doesn't know, it can land as pressure, and they spend the day wondering what they're meant to do about it.
Something soft does the job better. Pastels, pinks, a handful of gerberas. It says I'm thinking of you, and it leaves them room to smile about it without having to answer anything. Big difference, and nobody feels cornered.
15+ years on the bench
Colour does the talking before anyone opens the card. Deep red reads as a declaration from across the room. Blush, peach, lilac and cream read as warmth, and nobody has to decide what they mean yet.
The other thing I'd steer a secret admirer toward is a stem that keeps changing after it arrives. Oriental lilies go out mostly in bud and open over four or five days, a head or two at a time, so the vase looks different every morning and they think about who sent it every morning too. Gerberas do the opposite. They land wide open, bright and happy from the first minute. Pick by which of those you want.
How to keep it anonymous
When I was on the phones, this is what most people asked about before they got anywhere near the flowers. It comes down to four small choices.
Leave your name off the card
Or send no card at all
Send it where they'll be
Keep it to yourself
Match the flowers to where you actually stand
The right bunch depends less on the person and more on how far things have already gone between you.
Bright gerberas
Pinks and pastels
Oriental lilies
A single red rose
Let the florist choose
One customer told me, years ago, that he sent oriental lilies to someone he had wanted to ask out for months. When they finally got together she told him those lilies made her see him differently. More thoughtful, more interesting. Sometimes the flower says as much as the card does.
The card gets read before anyone looks at the flowers
We delivered thousands of bunches ourselves in the shop years, across the Tweed and the southern Gold Coast, and the doorstep taught us something no order form ever did. Nobody looks at the flowers first. They go straight for the card. This one was a birthday delivery to a retirement village in Tweed Heads South. Different occasion, same moment at the door, and Andrew tells it better than I could.
Shop deliveries, about 2009
St Joseph's Village, off Blundell Boulevard in Tweed Heads. Asha would have been two, maybe not quite. I carried the roses. She carried the card, because she insisted, with both hands.
It took a while to find the right villa, and by the time we did, most of the neighbours had come out to look at her. The lady we were delivering to sat down on her front step to read the card. Asha sat down beside her, like they'd arranged it. It was oh so sweet. I took Asha often me back in those days, partly because we had no family up in Kingscliff, Siobhan was in the shop, but also as kind of a security blanket as I was so far out of my comfort zone!
I stood there holding the roses for a good while. Nobody was in a hurry to take them. I don't remember the woman's name. Asha was the delivery, and the flowers were the excuse.
That's the bit I'd want every secret admirer to picture. Somebody sitting down with your few words, reading them twice, maybe three times, before they even notice what colour the flowers are. So the card is worth a little care.
What to write on the card, and what to leave off
This is where people really struggle. After all those calls, I can tell you simple beats clever almost every time.
| On the card | What it does | Verdict |
|---|---|---|
| "Thinking of you." | Warm, asks for nothing, fits any stage. | Yes |
| "Hope these brighten your day." | Kind and easy to receive. Good for an office. | Yes |
| "From your secret admirer." | Plays the game openly, and they get to enjoy it. | Yes |
| A riddle or private joke | If they can't place it, the mystery turns into confusion. | Skip |
| A full declaration | Puts them on the spot before they know who's asking. | Save it |
I've seen card messages so cryptic the recipient had no idea who sent them or why. That reads as confusing, and the romance gets lost somewhere in it. If you want them to work it out eventually, leave one small clue that only makes sense to them, a song, a place, a coffee order, and let them get there on their own.
If the words won't come, we have a page of card message ideas to borrow from. Most people end up writing something simpler than anything on it, which is usually the right call.
Three calls I still remember
Andrew took more of these calls than I did, and for longer. These three are his.
On the phones 2006 to 2013
The three rewrites. Valentine's week, 2012. A bloke rang at ten past one to change his card message. Rang again at half past. Rang a third time at a quarter to two, close enough to the 2pm cutoff that I was reading it back to him with the order already open on the screen. The version that went out was the first one he gave us. "Thinking of you. Happy Valentine's." Four words, and it took three calls to get back to them.
The detective. About 2009. A woman rang the morning after a delivery, polite and very determined. She wanted to know who had sent her flowers. I said I couldn't tell her. She asked if he was tall. I said I couldn't tell her that either. She asked if it was someone from her work, and I said the card was all we could give her. She laughed, said "So it is someone from work," and hung up. No idea how that one ended.
Three desks away. A Friday in 2011. A young guy rang to ask whether he should own up. He had sent gerberas to a woman on his floor the day before and the whole office had spent the morning guessing, with him sitting three desks away listening. I told him I sell flowers, I don't do advice. Then I told him to wait until the guessing stopped, and if she raised it, tell her. A few months later he ordered her birthday flowers. Same address. Card signed.
Three calls, three different endings. The flowers did the same job every time.
Our house has a secret admirer too
Andrew has his own take on all this, and it happens every February, without fail.
Father of two
Every Valentine's Day I send flowers to both girls, Asha and Ivy, from their secret admirer. Card included. They have known it's me for years. They still act surprised, still wonder out loud who it could possibly be, and still give me the look across the dinner table.
I got it from Dad. He did the same for my sister Sarah, every Valentine's, for at least twenty-five years. Good man, Dad.
When Ivy was thirteen she announced at breakfast that her secret admirer had better send sunflowers this year. I kept a straight face. The sunflowers arrived just before she got home from school.
Watching that play out year after year taught me the mystery matters less than the gesture. Everyone in our house knows exactly who sends those flowers, and it still works. Someone thought of you. Someone cared enough to send something beautiful. That matters more than the secret.
Someone thought of you. Someone cared enough to send something beautiful. That matters more than the secret.Siobhan Thomson · Co-founder
I still think about those pink tulips sometimes. The way they turned an ordinary Tuesday into something, the three days of wondering, the smile when I finally worked it out. If you're thinking about sending flowers anonymously, you've already done the hard part, which is deciding to be brave. The flowers are the easy bit.
Questions people ask us
Will the florist tell them who sent the flowers?
No. We keep your details private and the card carries only what you write on it. If nobody is home, the florist may need to ring the recipient to arrange another delivery time, and that call is only ever about the delivery. If staying a mystery really matters, send it somewhere you know they'll be, like work.
What if they don't like the flowers I pick?
In all our years on the phones I can't remember a secret admirer bunch coming back as a complaint about the choice. The worst that happens is they'd have picked a different colour, and even then, the gesture is what they remember. If you're still worried, go with a Florist's Choice and let someone who does this every day pick what's freshest.
Should I own up straight away or let them wonder?
Up to you. Some people reveal themselves the same day, some wait a week. My tulip mystery lasted three days, which felt about right. Andrew's girls have known for years and it still works. There's no wrong answer, only what feels right for the two of you.
Is a single rose too cheap, like I'm not trying?
A single rose is a statement in its own right. It's direct without being overwhelming. If you're worried how it looks, a single rose with chocolates adds a little weight, or go up to a small bunch. Price doesn't make a gesture romantic. Thought does.
Can they arrive today?
Yes, order before 2pm on a weekday or 10am on a Saturday and a partner florist near the address builds and delivers it the same day. Around Valentine's Day, order a few days ahead if you can. It's the busiest week of the year and the earlier orders go out first.
What if I send them and nothing happens?
Then you tried. You put yourself out there, and that counts for something. Over the years plenty of people told us it didn't work out and they were still glad they sent them. At least they knew. Better than spending months wondering what if.
Send something soft, and let them wonder
A few pastels or a bunch of gerberas, a short card, no name. Order before 2pm today and it can be at their door this afternoon.
Browse love and romance flowersSame day before 2pm weekdays or 10am Saturdays. Questions on 1300 360 469, 7am to 6pm weekdays. Browse all our Valentine's Day flowers.
