The Tablescape Series: A Garden in Lavender

Lavender is a colour that seems to exist somewhere between the garden and the imagination. It belongs to flowering fields, faded frescoes, aromatic herbs, summer dresses, and the soft violet light that settles over a garden at the end of the day. It can feel quiet and romantic, but in nature it is also fragrant, abundant, and full of life.

That vitality made lavender especially fitting for our return after a three-month pause. By the time we gathered again, continuing the series did not feel like simply picking up where we had left off.

So much had shifted during those months that the evening became both a celebration and a kind of re-entry, a chance to gather again and begin the next chapter of the series.

Lavender also marked two firsts for The Tablescape Series. It was the first dinner held in someone else’s home and the first time the evening was not centred around a seated meal. Our hosts, Michaela and Oscar, had both attended previous tablescapes and had become wonderful friends and generous supporters of the project. Their warmth made the garden feel like a natural place for the series to begin again.

Summer has always been my favourite season, largely because it is gardening season. Gardening gives me a reason to notice the smallest changes: the first shoots breaking through the soil, a vine beginning to climb, flowers opening, and herbs becoming fragrant in the heat. I love the patience it requires and the way a garden is never truly finished. It grows according to its own rhythm, becoming fuller and less contained as the season continues.

Some of my earliest and most familiar memories are of being outside with my hands in the soil, observing closely and allowing time to move differently. A garden asks for care, but it also teaches you to surrender control. You can plan, plant, prune, and tend, but there will always be something unexpected. That balance between intention and wildness became central to the design of this evening.

The inspiration also came from time we had both spent in France. Kate had spent time there as a child, while I visited Aix-en-Provence in my early twenties and became determined to find the lavender fields I had imagined before arriving. With almost no research, I assumed they would be easy to locate. What should have been a straightforward excursion became a five-hour bicycle detour through the countryside, following winding roads and increasingly uncertain directions.

When we finally reached the fields, they did not disappoint.

Lavender stretched across the landscape in long, saturated rows, surrounded by dry grasses, distant hills, and the heat of the Provençal sun. The colour was softer and more varied than photographs had suggested, moving between dusty violet, pale lilac, muted green, and deep purple. Its scent reached us before the fields were fully visible. That experience stayed with me, and the design of this evening began there.

The event became a lavender garden party inspired by the relaxed elegance of the French countryside. Rather than creating a setting that felt formal or overly composed, the intention was to make guests feel as though they were moving through an abundant summer garden.

Flowers and foliage travelled throughout the space instead of remaining confined to one central arrangement. Lavender, lilac, violet, blush, and softened green appeared in loose florals and vessels placed across the garden, gathering around the bar, grazing table, cocktail areas, and photo backdrop.

The evening unfolded without assigned seats or a fixed progression of courses. Conversations began in one part of the garden and continued somewhere else. Guests returned to the food, joined different groups, posed for photographs, and moved easily through the space.

My brother and his DJ partner, James, played music throughout the night, giving the gathering the energy of a true summer party. After several months away from the series, it felt like the perfect way to welcome it back.

There was no central question guiding the evening and no single moment when guests were asked to stop and reflect together. Its meaning emerged through the gathering itself, through shared food, spontaneous conversation, music, and the freedom to move. The garden was not simply something to look at. It became the place where people met, lingered, talked, and celebrated.

At the centre of the evening was an abundant seasonal grazing table created by Chef Kate Levitt. Inspired by the flavours and generosity of Provence, the dishes were layered across the table rather than served as a formal sequence.

White bean dip sat alongside French cheeses, charcuterie, and market fruit. Whipped chèvre was paired with apricot jam, honey, and thyme, while an endive salad brought together fig, walnut, and gorgonzola. Crudités were served with herbed green goddess dressing, and tomato, peach, and basil tartines celebrated the brightness of summer produce. Lavender and honey butter popcorn added something playful and unexpected, carrying the theme into the food without allowing it to become overly literal.

It was a joyful welcome back to The Tablescape Series.

What stayed with me most was the energy of the space. Conversations overlapped, groups formed and changed, and people gathered beneath the flowers as music moved through the garden. The warmth of the evening allowed the night to feel expansive.

After the pause, that fullness felt meaningful. The return did not need to be quiet or careful. It could be generous, lively, and filled with people. Lavender became less about stillness and more about gathering at full bloom. It held the softness associated with the colour, but also the energy of summer at its height. It was fragrant, abundant, social, and alive.

It was a return shaped not by pretending nothing had changed, but by allowing the series to keep growing. Lavender was not simply a pale purple.

It was the colour of coming back.

LOOKING AHEAD

After Lavender, only one tablescape remains. It is difficult to believe that we have already created nearly twelve tables together.

Pistachio Green will be the final dinner in this chapter of The Tablescape Series, carrying us into the varied greens of late summer. Fresh, vibrant, and abundant, it will draw from the colours of herbs, foliage, vegetables, fruit, and the garden at the height of the season.

It feels strange to be approaching the final table.

What began as a monthly exploration of colour has become a record of food, design, memory, change, and the communities formed around each gathering. Every dinner has taken on a life beyond what was originally imagined, shaped by the people who entered the room and the stories they brought with them.

Although the tables paused for three months, the work behind the series continued. During that time, Kate and I were creating, reflecting, and developing something we are incredibly excited to share.

Pistachio Green may be the final dinner, but it will not be the end of the story.

We have exciting news coming this October. Stay tuned, and keep an eye on your mailbox.

PHOTO GALLERY