#002: Simon's Refreshed Perspective

It's a particularly balmy summer morning as I make the journey down to Camberwell. While it's hardly an arduous expedition, the air—still thick with the remnants of the previous week's heatwave—makes what should have been a swift hop across the city feel more like the final stretch across the Sahara.

Having only seen Simon Lycett on television and in various interviews scattered across social media, I stepped into Lycett Towers wondering whether his on-screen persona matched the real-life version. As if by magic, he stepped out of his workspace with a beaming smile framed by an equally impressive moustache. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, knowing that he truly is an embodiment of his work—and what more could you possibly want from an artist?

The room feels like a cross between a workspace and a living area, and as we sit down on the dark, weathered-yet-wonderful leather sofas, Simon quips to Iona, his creative assistant and PA, that she must’ve heard these stories an infinite amount of times by now. “I went to a local flower show in Warwick when I was seven, which we never would’ve done normally,” said Simon, as I asked how his journey in floristry began. “My Dad ended up working one bank holiday, so Mum took us to the park for something to do and I went into this proper, traditional old school tent where there was a proper, old school flower show happening and I was absolutely smitten.” His smile returns instantly: “I found my tribe, my family, immediately. It was fantastic.”

Growing up in England in the 1970s and ‘80s, Simon’s childhood wasn’t exactly bread and butter. “I was bullied to fuck for being gay and into flowers but it was a place where I belonged, where I felt safe.” He remained steadfast in pursuing the career he wanted, no matter the adversity; to be so assured of yourself at such a young age is a very rare thing, especially given the constant hardship faced just for being true to oneself. “I knew [working with flowers] was all I was going to do, and so I really didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. After a while, you can only be called puff and queer and have kisses blown at you as you walk into a room so many times before it becomes white noise and you ignore it. And in a way it's a terrible thing to say, but God almighty, it makes you stronger and tougher—it builds a lovely carapace.”

He credits his perseverance as one of the reasons his career took off, “that and some luck, a bit of charm perhaps!” Not intentionally setting his own path, he admitted that he never knew his success would grow the way it has. “I was working out the back of a Ford Fiesta,” says Simon. “I was a one-man band for years, and used to do film and TV commercials.

“I did the flowers for a Flymo commercial in the ‘90s and it was a weird pre-computer, pre-technology film that was made and it was a six-week shoot in Shepperton Studios, where the garden is coming to life. They were created by the Creature Shop who are the people that do The Muppets, so at the same time as we were filming that, they were filming The Muppet Christmas Carol on another stage.” 

Through this, he would get to know Jim Henson, American puppeteer and creator of The Muppets. When Henson suddenly passed away in the United States, Lycett was asked to do the flowers for his memorial service in London.

Not too long after, Duncan Kenworthy, who worked with Henson for several years, reached out to Lycett to provide the flowers for a small budget British film he was working on. Four Weddings and a Funeral would go on to become the highest-grossing British film in history at the time, receiving two Academy nods and picking up BAFTAs for Best Film, Direction, Actor and Supporting Actress.

Fast-forward to today and Simon’s workshop, affectionately referred to as Lycett Towers, is something to behold. As you enter the atrium, two big rooms to the left immediately grab your attention: the first being a workroom with various wooden benches, trinkets and hardware scattered around, while the next room (where we sit to chat) feels more like a hosting space. As you continue towards the back, that’s where you see all the magic happen. The bountiful array of floral accoutrements almost distracts you from the cascades of flowers in colours that beautifully harmonise with one another.

“For years we were by Wandsworth Roundabout, in an old bookbinding factory that was full of units of different sizes which were brilliant. They don’t exist in London anymore,” he remarks. “There was a jewellery maker, someone who did gilding, a leather worker. It let all those little artisans have a workspace, and we all used the same loos, post room, same car park—it was a lovely mixing pot of creatives.

“We eventually outgrew the space, and Johnny—my office manager—was looking around and said, ‘oh, I found some railway arches.’ And I said, ‘no way! I can’t be a mole, I don’t want to be subterranean with no light.’ He said to hear him out, which I’m never very good at, but he brought me here and the thing that sold me was the light of the atrium.”

Our conversation on light allowed for a nice segue to the current climate situation. With temperatures climbing, parts of Europe are in the midst of some of the worst wildfires ever experienced on the continent to date. Just today, the government announced that London is officially in a drought. It made me curious whether Simon’s work has been affected. “So most of the flowers we use are still commercially grown on industrial scales, mostly in Northern Europe, and there’s quite a lot coming from Colombia and Ecuador, so regardless of what the climate is doing, those flowers still happen one way or another. However, there is also an enormous movement and an understanding that for sustainability, it’s so much nicer to use seasonal flowers.” He continues, “I’m a champion of an organisation called Flowers from the Farm, which is a co-operative of, I think a thousand now, small independent growers from around the UK—but everything they do is so weather-dependent and this summer has really emphasised that.

"My garden looks like shit at the moment. I have a teeny, tiny garden with a watering system. My sweet peas all finished three weeks ago, my lettuce is bolted, pretty much most things look really underwhelming.” But it’s not all doom and gloom: “I went into the flower market this morning at the New Covent Garden Market and there were buckets and buckets that British flower farmers are growing and they are gorgeous. Buckets of jewel colours; the flowers are British grown and I think how do they do it? They are so clever.”

From bold bouquets to subtle accents, colour is a tricky skill to master, particularly when it comes to wardrobes. My journey to implement more of it into my outfits took years, and I’m still learning more and more about colour theory through experimentation. It can, I suppose, feel quite overwhelming to someone that isn’t innately drawn to bold colours and prints, but we all have to start somewhere. So where do you begin?

“I think you need to do it incrementally, but do it truly to yourself and something that you feel you quite like. Oh, and don’t care what anyone else thinks.” We delved into the true soul of personal style, both coming to the conclusion that having confidence in yourself is the best way to truly enjoy the clothes you wear. It’s hard to look bad when you know you look good, after all. “I only ever dress for myself—I would go into meetings in the city to companies where everyone has to wear a suit, so that’s the day I put my pink Dr. Martens on, or find a suit but put a pink nail varnish on or something. That’s what I celebrate: being a twat and having some fun and not needing to be in uniform.”

There is a distinct workwear appeal to Simon’s attire, which in part is dictated by his craft. In an environment where you’re constantly moving, tinkering, experimenting and creating, it’s important to wear clothes that represent you, without getting in the way of what you’re trying to achieve. “I like workwear, I like ridiculous colour. I think that’s why Soho Scarves are brilliant because you can turn something really safe into something fabulously flamboyant and colourful with a scarf. The alchemy of that one square of silk or cotton can be brilliant.”

We pause so Simon could show me the various scarves he owns. He returns with a neatly folded stack in a variety of fabrics, sizes and colours—something for every day of the week—all acquired from Soho Scarves over the years. He looks at them attentively while addressing me, “I was bought one by a dear friend because I’d suddenly started developing a scraggy neck, I suppose. I had a couple bandana type things, and then my friend bought me one from Soho Scarves and I thought, ‘oh my God this is gorgeous’ and immediately went online and put a big old order in.” While he outright refused to pick a favourite from his collection, he hinted that the original spotted versions were the ones he most often returned to and for good reason. A classic pattern can go a long way, particularly if you have them in several colours.

So what is in store for the rest of the year and beyond? Despite the precarious economic climate, he takes solace in the fact that people are still trying to celebrate good things as they come—weddings and parties don’t seem to be slowing down, and neither does business. It just requires a bit of quick thinking and adaptability: “We’ve had a spectacular summer, but everything is so last minute now. I think everyone thinks we’re Amazon Prime—we’re living in a world so used to receiving something at the immediate press of a button. I used to be able to look in my diary and see what the rest of the year would look like, now you don’t even know what the next month’s going to be.”

From the moment we first started speaking, it was apparent that through adversity, hardship and the many ups and downs that come with the trade, Simon has always been a glass-half-full sort of person. It’s easy to be caught up in the existentialism of everything going on, but, it seems like we could all do with some of his unrelenting optimism: “I enjoy the constant challenges of it all. We’re really lucky because the seasons change, our plant material changes, and that keeps us refreshed all the time.”

A refreshing perspective, indeed.

“Explore more of Simon’s work at simonlycett.co.uk and on Instagram at @simonlycett.”

Words & Photos: Rikesh Chauhan