ƒ ırst
trend: “Everything’s coming up roses.” And when Beyoncé
heralded her pregnancy in a styled Instagram photo? Those
weren’t geraniums behind her.
But if plucking the idea out of the air was easy, anointing a
new flower was a thornier proposition. The naming of roses
has become one of the dimly lit, mysterious back corridors
of celebrity culture, lodged somewhere between wax muse-
ums and franchise emoji. There is a Christian Dior rose (red),
a John F. Kennedy rose (white), and a Miranda Lambert rose
(rousing hot pink). There’s a Catherine Deneuve (elegant
coral, in the French style), a Marilyn Monroe (pale blonde
and said to smell like peaches), and a Rosie O’Donnell (loony
red tips, possibly shippable to the White House). If there was
to be a Vogue rose, it would have to be—well, what? A list of
ideal qualities emerged.
First, the Vogue rose should be elegant and of its mo-
ment—because standard-setting is important. It should be
exquisitely fragrant because, to quote Coco Chanel (who
borrowed in turn from the poet Paul Valéry), “a woman who
doesn’t wear perfume has no future.” It should be an English
rose (the layered, heavily petaled variety favored in gardens,
rather than the quick-to-wilt things sold in grocery stores), but
with New World roots. Instead of the dusty, dark foliage that
often droops below vivacious blooms, it should have leaves
as bright and glossy as this magazine. And because fashion is
adaptable, fast-traveling, and global, it should be able to thrive
anywhere: planted in a Los Angeles garden, potted on a New
York City patio, or set along a boulevard in Paris or Milan.
Stephen Scanniello, best known as the former longtime
curator of the Cranford Rose Garden in Brooklyn, put
Vogue in touch with rose breeders, including Brad Jalbert
of Select Roses, a star hybridizer near Vancouver who was
raising some of the most interesting new flowers around.
Breeding roses is like breeding animals: You take the pollen
from one variety (the “father”) and apply it to another (the
“mother”); a few months later, seeds are gathered from the
mother’s rosehips and planted. Cross two varieties repeatedly,
and you’ll get different offspring every time. Most breeders
get one promising rose from as many as 10,000 new seeds
they create; Jalbert can work that to one in 1,000.
Finding that one, however, requires eight years of scru-
tiny. Does the plant look healthy? Can it survive winter or
shade? Are the flowers interesting and new? (Rose grow-
ers dis