I very much disliked houseplants up until adulthood. For as long as I can remember we had plants ALL over our house while I was growing up. In random pots along the staircase, multiple just sitting on the dining table, vines of pothos framing each door, canopies of plants hanging above our living room, and at one point we even had a green room, it was my mum’s little jungle oasis. But I didn’t care for it. I thought it was tacky and made our house look “busy”.

It all changed when I got my first apartment. I had furnished and decorated it, but even still it looked a bit barren. It lacked character. A few days in, my mum stopped by to drop off some food, as mums do, but this time she also came by with something else: a HUGE ficus tree that she plopped down in my living room.

It made the room come alive, and I was mesmerized.

But the plant started dying within days and I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. Later I’d find out I was under-watering. Then a few weeks later it looked worse: turns out I was over-watering. I’ve learned a lot about plants since then, and I've adopted many more plants too: we now have a total over 80 plants at the PUL studio, and the collection is only ever growing. Needless to say, I’m the new crazy plant lady, with all traits inherited from my dear mother 💗