Glossy is not a word people associate with me. It implies svelte, manicured, sophisticated. (I can hear Husband laughing...). Nor is it a style I attempt in interior decoration (enough with the loud guffaws!).
This is possibly why the Glossy pot that I was given at last year's Garden Press Event disappeared into the cupboard and was only unearthed before Christmas when I delved into the depths for the it's-Christmas-so-we-must-the-effort serving dishes.
It resurfaced just in time for the cyclamen. These are tough little souls. Generally, about mid-summer, my mother gets sick of seeing them languishing, motionless, in the outhouse and chucks them into the compost bin.
Some indeterminate time later, I spot them, fish them out again, and put them back in their pots. They survive every time.
They then suffer their winter home on the windowsill, where I forget to water them, or leave their feet too wet, something I don't notice until the leaves begin to yellow.
The Glossy pot for cyclamen
The Glossy pot has been a new experience for all of us. Shiny black, 7 inches (18 cms) tall, it contains a clear plastic pot that slips into the top and a thick string that exits the internal pot and dangles in the water reservoir.
If my opinion were asked, I'd prefer the top of the internal pot to be black to match the external pot, but otherwise, despite my prejudice against plastic, I have to say that it's very smart. Being black and shiny, it needs wiping down a fair amount, but that's because it's near the sink in the kitchen.
One of the corners of the external pot is clear, so you can monitor the water level within, but it's not an obvious deviation from the design.
The cyclamen clearly loves it. The only time it began to look a little droopy was when the string had become so slimy that I suspect no moisture was getting through. (Note to self - just because the water level doesn't descend, it doesn't mean the water shouldn't be changed.)
It seems that the string is the weakest link, as it has a woven sleeve around a straight core and, in less than a month, the sleeve has already rotted enough for it to slip off while I rinsed it, leaving a rather diminished thickness. We'll see how the plant fares.
The Human Perspective
According to the ebertsankey catalogue, these are orchid pots, but the pink cyclamen looks really lovely. The plant is half the height of the pot, which makes the proportions pleasing.
One niggle, though, has surprised me. The cyclamen is flowering its heart out, bushy, bouncy, vibrant. All by itself. In its current state, it's more of an ornament than something to look after (however badly).
Anything wrong with that? Well, up to now, I wouldn't have said so. But (this sounds daft) I miss having something to do. I'm now over-zealous in my readiness to pluck off any flower that looks remotely past its peak.
Am I alone in this? Do you like houseplants that thrive without you? This is the reason I really dislike Moth Orchids. Mine, received two years ago, sits there, in flower, for months.
Looks lovely. Bores me rigid.
So, yes, I recommend the Glossy pot (with a new string at the ready). A row of them on a plain windowsill or shelf, with bright pink cyclamen, or an appropriate orchid, would look very designer-magazine.
Your plant will love it.
You may feel a bit wistful.