Each June, in a quiet corner of Herstmonceux, three peony shrubs come into bloom. They emerge quietly, from the bare ground, as if confiding in the wind. Then their buds grow, each day, rounder and bigger, until they are almost racing along to explode into spectacular heavy luxuriant blossoms. Each year I marvel at this profound miracle. I can never bring myself to cut them. They are visited by pollinators, lolling and fabulous. These are not curated garden flowers. They are older than design, wilder than fashion. They bloom because they must. Because love, too, returns without asking.
It was here, in my garden, that the Love Pattern began. I wanted to share the exquisite velvet textures and colours of these flowers with the world. Each year I photograph them carefully, as one might photograph memory. Petals drenched in soft pink, lit from behind with lilac shadows. Centres bursting in deep magenta. Fuchsia edges where light lingered longest. Each flower held a secret, a gesture, a whisper of something felt but not named. In Chinese culture, the peony is considered a symbol of loyalty and I planted these shrubs because I am loyal to love.
When I began arranging and tailoring the images into the silk design, I realised I was designing much more than a print. I was translating a feeling. Yes! The sweet beginning of love. Yes! Its dramatic bloom. And yes—I was also touching on something infinitely older. Something timeless. Love. The Omega point. The Love Peony Pattern is a tribute to what endures. It carries the weight of peonies long admired, of loves that return and moments held in silence. The delicate mint-green lines represent, for me, the first bloom of love. Their presence elevates the design to a sublime state.
The pattern now lives in three forms: a square silk satin scarf that radiates composure and presence; a long georgette satin scarf, sheer and fluid, like a breeze against the skin; and a limited-edition double-layer silk stole, heavy with intimacy, bearing a different design on each side.
These are fashion objects and they are emotional artefacts. Love, after all, does not age. It deepens. It ripens. It remembers. The Love Pattern belongs not only to lovers, but to those who have loved, who wait, who return, who begin again.
“With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
From Herstmonceux, with quiet devotion. Anna Acciarini
