It started innocently enough with a couple of orchids. Then a fern, then an addiction. It seems that I, like lots of other millennials and (in my case) Xennials out there, have been completely bewitched by the humble and once oh-so-daggy indoor plant.
My motley crew now consists of orchids (7!!) ferms (2), a peace lily, some devils ivy, a fern, a terrarium full of mini-indoorables, mason jars full of ivy, a swathe of air plants and the odd succulent or two who pop between inside and out.
I was intrigued and amazed to see an actual horde of people flocking into the recent Canberra Jungle Collective event (yep, it was indeed an event built up by a massive social media lead in and complete with pumping music and a killer atmmosphere) and leaving with washing baskets, trolleys and entire SUVs jam packed with indoor plants. And to be honest, the plants were not what you’d call cheap but people didn’t seem to care – they were fighting for those parlour palm fronds like crazed American shoppers on Black Friday.
I’ve read that this strange trend is a way for millennials to extend their fixation with ‘wellness’ and an extension of the generation’s environmentalism. Its also been suggested that its part of a rolling obsession with their parents stuff. My own (completely uneducated and unresearched) view is that its a way to add some nature into our increasingly apartment and office based lives. To freshen the look of the space, to clear the air and to get our hands into some dirt no matter how small the space. I think gardening in whatever form it takes forces you to slow down To watch the new leaves, buds and flowers (or fruit or veges or whatever your thing is) grow, change and fall is immensely satisfying.