What That Plant Tag Really Means
“What That Plant Tag Really Means”
An occasionally alarming translation guide to nursery lingo.
You’re in the nursery. The sun is shining. You’re feeling hopeful. Your cart has one pot of something with coral blooms, a surprise lavender you didn’t plan for, and that mysterious plant from the clearance table that you’re 60% sure is still alive.
Then you read the plant tag.
And it says things like:
“Vigorous grower.”
“Tolerates drought.”
“Low-maintenance once established.”
“May spread.”
And you think, “Lovely! Sounds perfect.”
To which I say: slow down, dear friend. Let’s break this down, line by line—so you don’t end up weeping into a tangle of invasive mint three months from now.
“Vigorous Grower” = I Will Take Over Your Garden
This phrase is code for: Blink and you’ll miss me doubling in size. These plants don’t just “fill in.” They storm in. They throw elbows. They treat neighboring perennials as suggestions. Examples include mint, comfrey, and certain honeysuckles that believe in Manifest Destiny.
Are you trying to cover a fence quickly? Great.
Do you have a small bed where you’d like something “nice”? Walk away.
“Attracts Pollinators” = You Will Have Visitors
And we love that! But it means visitors. Buzzing, winged, possibly sting-y ones. If your idea of communing with nature involves absolute silence and zero insect activity, maybe don’t put this one by the seating area.
Also note: pollinators don’t come solo. Where there are bees, there may be beetles. Where there’s nectar, there may be drama.
“Low Water Needs” = Once It’s Settled In. Not Before.
This is a classic bait-and-switch. Yes, it may survive a Saharan summer eventually, but for now? You’ll be watering like a helicopter plant parent with a hydration app. “Low water” is true—after about a year of regular watering. Until then? Schedule check-ins.
“Self-Seeds Freely” = You Will Never Be Alone Again
These plants are, frankly, enthusiastic about reproduction. They want to be everywhere. In your cracks, your pathways, your neighbor’s side yard. Think California poppies, columbines, and verbena bonariensis.
On one hand, you get free plants! On the other, your carefully designed color scheme may be hijacked by a mob of unsolicited seedlings.
“Thrives in Full Sun” = Will Sulk in the Shade Like a Teenager Denied Wi-Fi
Don’t test it. If it says full sun, give it sun. Otherwise, you’ll get floppy stems, zero blooms, and a plant that looks like it’s holding a grudge.
“May Cause Skin Irritation” = Wear Gloves, And Maybe a Hazmat Suit
Just a polite note that this “innocent-looking” perennial is planning to burn your forearms the minute you prune it while wearing a t-shirt. Rue, euphorbia, and even some ornamental grasses fall under this warning. Consider your wardrobe before planting.
“Blooms Late Summer to Fall” = It Will Look Dead for Months
And that’s okay—as long as you’re prepared. These are the plants that bide their time. They’re the dramatic late-arrivals who show up to the garden party just as everyone else is fading. Plant them with spring and early summer friends, or risk staring at an empty patch until September.
“May Spread” = It’s Already Plotting a Coup
This is not a casual suggestion. This is a warning label.
Especially with groundcovers or running grasses—“may spread” means will spread, is spreading, and has already called its cousins to join the conquest. If you’re not ready to be slightly feared by your own garden, contain it, or choose something a little less… enthusiastic.
“Deadhead Regularly to Prolong Blooms” = You now have a seasonal unpaid internship.
Hope you like fiddling with scissors, because if you want flowers that keep going, you’ll be out there like a pageant coach, grooming petals and whispering encouragement. Stop for a week, and it’ll punish you by becoming a compost heap with leaves.
“Best in Containers” = This Plant Is Not to Be Trusted in the Ground
Containers = boundaries. This plant will otherwise leap garden beds in a single bound. Some examples: mint (again), bamboo (never again), and some salvias with wanderlust.
Final Thoughts: The Tags Don’t Lie—They Just Don’t Tell the Whole Truth
Plant tags are like dating profiles. They show the good bits. The bloom period. The height. The best-case scenario. What they don’t say is, “Will eventually swallow the birdbath,” or “Needs emotional support during heat waves,” or “Prone to powdery mildew and existential dread.”
So read the tag. Then read between the lines. Ask your nursery staff. Google it. Or better yet—ask your local gardener who’s already made every mistake so you don’t have to.
Because let’s face it: every garden needs a little chaos, but not that kind of chaos.