Have you ever been on a country walk during the height of spring and thought to yourself — gosh, I wish I knew how to arrange wildflowers?
That’s exactly the set of skills Philippa Dix brings to the floral scene through her brand, Botanical Curiosities. Inspired by childhood memories of picking flowers from the Maltese countryside during picnics with her mum, this self-taught artist has turned a lifelong love of nature into something entirely her own.

Her business name says it all. She really does have a curious knack for selecting unusual, unorthodox plants — garlic bulbs, wild fennel, wild grass — and masterfully curating them into arrangements that elevate nature into something that sparks wonder. The resulting effect is whimsical and unexpected. The more you zoom in, the more details you notice. Nothing is there by accident.
And yet, her work looks less contrived than simply discovered. There’s so much respect given to each plant’s natural form that you might, for a moment, think you could stumble upon such a display by chance. Believe me — you can’t.
“What makes it beautiful is the imperfection,” she says simply. “It’s not for everyone, but that’s what I love about it.”
It’s kind of like the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, but in floral form. This idea that beauty is found in imperfection is also why a woman with a flower in her hair looks instantly more beautiful — as if the two imperfections, nature’s and our own, were always meant to meet.

In an industry devoted to waxed, manicured, polished bouquets, she works like a contrarian. Her arrangements, which also include tablescapes, decorative centrepieces, floral arches, seasonal wreaths and flower stands, seem to break all the rules of conventional floristry, with a resulting aesthetic of curated asymmetry that looks like it simply sprang into place. Describing her as a rebel might even make her giggle — she’s a ray of sunshine, warm, and sincere — but it really does feel rebellious. Her work reads like a meadow in a world of golf-course lawns.
Philippa puts intense care into sourcing her raw ingredients, always checking the local market first — working with growers across the island for flowers she knows come into season at certain times of year, before occasionally importing varieties she becomes obsessed with, like the smoky-leafed Cotinus, or turning to wholesalers abroad if needed. Foraging is part of the picture too, though always done responsibly.
“If something is in abundance, growing on the side of the road, I like to bring it into my work,” she says.

She’s also constantly seeking out the unexpected — “I always try to find flowers which Malta has never seen, and highlight their beauty, shape, and textures.” Through years of trial and error, she’s finetuned the art of drying and preserving fresh botanicals, making them last as long as possible, her way of taking sustainability one step further.
Weddings bring their own particular kind of intensity. For each couple, Philippa puts together a deeply personal proposal — a vision shaped by the people, the venue, and the time of year. “I want to tell a story that’s specific to them,” she says. “We’re creating a vision that will remain in their memory for a lifetime. A lot of love goes into it, and we try to curate it in a very unique way.” And when that vision comes together — through all the planning, the sourcing, the long days of execution — the feeling is something she finds hard to replicate. “It’s quite an addictive feeling, I have to say.”

Because she’s working with what nature provides, there has to be trust — from Philippa, and from her clients — that it’s all going to come together. Neither party knows exactly how it’s going to look until it’s ready. Most of the time, her clients give her that trust, and she loves them for it.
“What I love about nature is how fleeting it is, but I also try to find ways of extending its life for as long as I can.”
And perhaps that’s the most infectious thing about Philippa and her work. Because you don’t need a studio, a drying rack, or years of practice to begin. You just need a walk, a handful of flowers, and a mason jar on a windowsill. Beauty is all around us — she’s just showing us how to bring it home.
