Let us have this conversation. The one we have been avoiding. The one where you point at a flower and say “I’ll take some of those” because you do not want to attempt the name out loud. The one where you google “pretty pink ruffled flower starts with R” because typing “ranunculus” feels like a trap.
We hear it every day in the shop. We hear every possible variation. We have never once corrected anyone because (a) we know what you mean, (b) it is genuinely not important, and (c) we love you for wanting flowers regardless of whether you can pronounce them. But today, because you asked (you did not ask, but we are doing it anyway), here is the definitive guide.
Bookmark this. Send it to someone. Refer back to it the next time you are standing at a farmers market and the little chalk sign says something you cannot decode.
🌺 Ranunculus
Correct: ruh-NUNK-yoo-lus
What we hear: ra-NUN-cue-lus, ran-UNK-uh-lus, “those ruffly ones,” “the ones that look like tiny peonies,” “ra-NOON-kyu-lus”
The trick: Think “ruh-NUNK” (like “debunk” with an R) + “yoo-lus.” The emphasis is on the NUNK. Once you hear it right, you cannot unhear it.
What it is: A Persian buttercup with tissue-paper-thin petals layered in impossibly tight spirals. Spring-blooming, available roughly February through May in Oregon. The flower that launched a thousand Pinterest boards.
🌼 Lisianthus
Correct: liz-ee-AN-thus
What we hear: LISS-ee-anth-us, lie-SIGH-an-thus, “those things that look like roses but aren’t,” liz-ee-ANTH-ee-us
The trick: “Lizzie” + “Ann” + “thus.” Three chunks. Lizzie-Ann-thus. Say it fast and you are there.
What it is: A ruffled, rose-like bloom that comes in white, purple, pink, and green. Longer vase life than actual roses. A florist’s secret weapon because it looks expensive, lasts forever, and most people cannot identify it, which makes any arrangement feel exotic.
💐 Alstroemeria
Correct: al-stroh-MEER-ee-uh
What we hear: al-STROM-eria, all-stro-MEE-ria, astro-MARE-ia, “Peruvian lilies,” “those little lily things”
The trick: “Al” + “stro” (like “throw” with an S) + “MEER” + “ee-uh.” The emphasis lands on MEER. The “Peruvian lily” nickname is 100% acceptable and nobody will judge you for using it.
What it is: A small, freckled, lily-shaped flower that comes in every color imaginable and lasts 2–3 weeks in a vase. The longest-lasting cut flower most people encounter. Workhorse of mixed bouquets everywhere.
🌻 Chrysanthemum
Correct: krih-SAN-thuh-mum
What we hear: chris-AN-the-mum, cry-SAN-thee-mum, kris-anth-EE-mum, “mums” (totally valid shortcut)
The trick: “Kris” + “ANTH” + “uh-mum.” The TH is soft, like in “anthem.” Or just say “mums” and nobody will blink. Every florist on earth uses the short version in casual conversation.
What it is: A massive genus covering everything from football mums at homecoming to delicate spider mums to the little button mums in grocery bouquets. Fall’s signature flower but available year-round. Japan’s imperial symbol. Deeply underrated in arrangements.
🌺 Dahlia
Correct: DAL-yuh or DAHL-ee-uh (both are accepted; it depends on where you live)
What we hear: DALE-yuh, duh-LEE-uh, DAY-lee-uh, DOLL-ee-uh
The trick: In the Pacific Northwest and most of the U.S., “DAL-yuh” (rhymes with “pal-ya”) is standard. In the UK and parts of the East Coast, “DAY-lee-uh” is common. In Eugene’s gardening community, you will hear both, and nobody is wrong. Just pick one and commit.
What it is: The flower that takes over the Pacific Northwest from July through October. Dinner-plate dahlias the size of your face. Ball dahlias like perfect spheres. Pompon, cactus, waterlily, decorative — there are thousands of named varieties and Oregon is one of the dahlia capitals of the world.
🌸 Peony
Correct: PEE-uh-nee
What we hear: pee-OH-nee, PEE-on-ee, PAY-oh-nee, PEEN-ee
The trick: Three syllables: PEE + uh + nee. Not two syllables. Not “PEE-nee.” Not “pee-OWN-ee.” The middle syllable is a soft “uh” that barely exists, which is why people collapse it or over-emphasize it.
What it is: The most hyped flower in the universe for about six weeks every spring. Lush, fragrant, absurdly photogenic. Available in Oregon roughly May through mid-June, then gone until next year. The flower people plan weddings around.
🌼 Freesia
Correct: FREE-zhuh
What we hear: FRAY-zhuh, free-SEE-uh, FREE-zee-uh, FRESH-uh
The trick: “FREE” + “zhuh” (like the “su” in “measure”). Two syllables. The ZH sound trips people up because English does not use it at the start of syllables very often.
What it is: A small, trumpet-shaped flower on an arching stem with one of the strongest, sweetest fragrances in the flower world. Available most of the year through Dutch imports. One stem can scent an entire room. Wildly underused in modern arrangements and we wish people asked for it more.
🌺 Helichrysum
Correct: hel-ih-KRY-sum
What we hear: HELL-ih-cry-sum, hee-lih-CHRY-sum, helly-CHRIS-um, “straw flowers,” “those papery things”
The trick: “Heli” (like helicopter) + “CRY” + “sum.” The emphasis is on CRY. Or just say “strawflower” — everyone in the flower world knows exactly what you mean and nobody will think less of you.
What it is: A flower with petals that feel like dry paper even when fresh. They dry perfectly without changing color, which makes them the darling of the dried-flower trend. Comes in gold, pink, white, red, orange. Grows beautifully in Oregon summers.
🌻 Gerbera
Correct: GER-buh-ruh (hard G, like “girl”)
What we hear: JER-buh-ruh (soft G), jer-BARE-uh, GER-beer-uh, “those big daisies”
The trick: Hard G, like “get.” Not a J sound. Named after German botanist Traugott Gerber (German G = hard G). Three syllables: GER + buh + ruh.
What it is: The oversized, brightly colored daisy that comes in every color except blue. Classic in cheerful arrangements. Kids love them. They are the fifth most popular cut flower in the world and the most mispronounced flower in the top ten.
🌸 Gypsophila
Correct: jip-SOF-ih-luh
What we hear: GIP-so-FEE-luh, jip-so-FILL-uh, gyp-so-FEEL-ya, “baby’s breath” (the universal shortcut)
The trick: Say “gypsy” but swap the Y for “SOF-ih-luh.” The emphasis lands on SOF. Or call it baby’s breath forever because even florists rarely say gypsophila in conversation.
What it is: The cloud of tiny white flowers that used to be the cliché filler in every grocery bouquet and has now been reclaimed as a statement flower. A vase of just baby’s breath — a full, dense cloud of it — is one of the most requested arrangements we make right now. The trend cycle came all the way back around.
🌼 Eustoma (Bonus Round)
Correct: yoo-STOH-muh
Why it matters: This is the botanical name for lisianthus. Some wholesalers and growers use “eustoma” on their labels. If you see it at a farmers market, it is the same flower as lisianthus — just the genus name instead of the common name. Now you know.
🏆 The Permission Slip
Here is the thing: none of this matters. Not really. If you walk into our shop on 5th Street and say “I want those pink ruffly ones and some of the tall blue spikes and maybe some of those tiny white clouds” — we know exactly what you want. You just ordered ranunculus, delphinium, and gypsophila without saying a single scary word, and the arrangement will be gorgeous.
But if you want to say the names — if you want to walk into a flower shop or a garden center or a wedding consultation and sound like you know what you are talking about — now you can. You have been saying “ra-NOON-kyu-lus” for years and your florist has been smiling and filling your order and quietly not correcting you. Consider this the gentle, long-overdue correction. Delivered with love and absolutely no judgment.
Now go order some liz-ee-AN-thus. You have earned it.