Why Showing Up Matters: The Power of Face-to-Face in Floral Education
Lori is just back from the Great Lakes Floral Expo, where she represented Flower Clique with Audrey and taught a business session on building a customer service dream team — the internet glitched mid-presentation, the audience forgave her, and her brain is still spiraling with ideas. Which is exactly the point of this episode. In a world where you can learn almost anything from behind a screen, Vonda turns interviewer and asks the question every busy shop owner wrestles with: is it still worth closing the shop and showing up in person? Lori's answers make the case that some things simply cannot travel through a Zoom window.
What a screen can never give you
Lori's first answer is one word: a hug. By her own estimate, 90 percent of her booth conversations at the trade show ended in one. The story that stuck with her: two women from a tiny town who could only afford a one-day pass, at their very first show, thrilled over every little treat bag. Flower Clique wasn't even a fit for their shop — Lori loaded them up with freebies and encouragement anyway, and they came back later just for another round of hugs. In-person conversations go deeper and get funnier, and the relationships — "friendship, mentorship, whatever the ship is" — grow in a way they never do online. The hallway moments, the "oh my gosh, you got your hair cut!" reunions with flower family, the accidental collisions between sessions: none of it can be replaced or replicated on a screen.
Even the slow stretches earned their keep. The Expo's two-day trade show meant florists trickled through instead of mobbing the booth, and Lori is still deciding whether she liked it — but it produced longer, better conversations. She asked florist after florist the same question — what's your biggest struggle right now? — and those answers ride home with her to shape what Flower Clique does next. The downtime even let vendors swap stories and practice their elevator pitches on each other.
The people who make it happen
Both hosts made a point of celebrating the volunteers — the committee members running the flower room, the main stage, the vendor setup. Lori gave a full-hearted shout-out to the Expo's committee: someone was always quietly checking whether the vendors were okay, and one committee member (a Flower Clique member) sat in their booth unasked while Lori taught her session, just so it wouldn't be empty. Lori's belief runs deeper than logistics: we're all born to serve, and serving on a team that creates something bigger than yourself — "look what we did together," not "look what I did" — makes you better.
Volunteer, don't just attend
For designers, the flower room might be the best classroom in the industry. Imagine a designer from a small town assigned to assist a main-stage presenter like Kelsey Thompson or Jacob McCall — Vonda and Lori remember a designer at Texas State's gala calling her turn assisting on the main stage "life-changing." And it isn't just for beginners. Vonda, an experienced designer herself, still loves assisting: when she worked a sympathy program with Tim Farrell, she was watching his mechanics on big tropical stems over his shoulder and asking questions the whole time. Her advice for assisting well: it's not your program. Ask the lead designer what points and mechanics they want made, then execute their vision — the moment you step into that room believing you already know everything is the moment you stop learning. Lori, meanwhile, knows exactly which volunteer she'd be — the "we're building a rocket ship" leader from a personality assessment she took decades ago: the one who casts the vision, rallies everybody to the project, and hands the middle part to the people who know how.
"I don't have time to leave my shop"
Lori's response to the most common objection is to sit down with that florist and their calendar for a heart-to-heart. Her proof point from the Expo: a shop that closed for multiple days and brought the entire staff. That's a real sacrifice — and an incredible statement from a boss. Employees notice when an owner invests in them, and the education, connection, and energy come home with the whole team. It's like a spa day for the business: sometimes you have to close to get rejuvenated.
Then Vonda flips the question: what's the cost of not attending? For Lori, who has worked virtually since around 2012, it's the rut — talking into a computer at other people behind computers until you wonder if any of them are real. A plane ticket on the calendar is what keeps her inspired between trips. And the transformation runs both ways: florists who arrived at the Expo tentative and politely curious were high-fiving and trading inside jokes with her by Sunday. One of them, a Cleveland-area shop owner she'd only just met, won the scholarship to compete in SAF's Sylvia Cup — and left saying "I'm going, I'm going."
Key takeaways
- Hallway conversations, hugs, and face-to-face reunions build connection no virtual event can replicate.
- Volunteering beats just attending — the flower room is one of the best places in the industry to learn, at any skill level.
- When you assist a lead designer, execute their vision, not yours — and go in knowing someone else knows more than you.
- Closing the shop to bring your team is a sacrifice that pays back in education, energy, and what it tells your staff about you.
- The real cost of staying home is the rut — and the confidence you watch people gain over a single weekend is the return.