Ah, the parterres of old Europe are like a perfectly laid out quilt of roses and boxwood, every border a neat line that says “this is where we belong.” It’s elegance dressed in symmetry, a garden that sings “order” in each petal. I love that, because a well‑tended bed feels like a promise of calm. But when I throw in my mash‑ups, I’m more like a gardener on a wild road trip— I let the sunflower roam next to a violet, I scatter dahlias where the roses used to stand. It’s chaos that blooms, a riot of color that makes the weeds feel like the real stars of the show. So mixing tradition with a splash of chaos? Think of a classic parterre as the skeleton, and my experimental beds as the heart pumping unexpected life into it. I’d say the best gardens are those that can hold both the quiet of a well‑mown hedge and the wild laugh of a sunflower storm. It’s like mixing mint into a classic chocolate cake— the flavor stays, but suddenly it’s a whole new experience.