Asking Cathy for an interview a week before Easter and two weeks before Munson’s Art in Bloom exhibition was a little nervy. I got a reluctant “yes,” more from her modesty than availability. She is The Clinton Florist. Whatever beckons decoration—weddings, restaurant décor, dining room tables, private parties, churches—she is an immensely talented, sole proprietor that the Mohawk Valley is lucky to have. When I sat down with her, the first thing she said was, “I’m not good at talking about myself, but give me a shovel…”
Although Cathy and her three sisters were born and raised in Greenwich, Connecticut, she always had ties to the area. Her father grew up on Genesee Street, and her mother came to Utica to finish high school and moved right next door to the man who would eventually become her husband.
Every summer, she would visit her grandparents in Barneveld, who had bought a house along the West Canada Creek in 1929, shortly after their son Roderick (Cathy’s uncle) contracted polio and was left paralyzed. Although there was no cure for their son, doctors recommended the fresh, clean air of Barneveld to reduce health complications, and the bucolic setting offered a happier, more comfortable way of life. Cathy remembers, “It was really considered the boondocks, which is funny when you think it was only 20 miles from Genesee Street.” The house became a central gathering place for the family—and still is, nearly a century later.
In terms of how Cathy became interested in plants, there is no tidy origin story—no since I was a little girl gardening with my grandmother or from my first environmental science class. Instead, it was a gradual discovery, an interest that revealed itself after she graduated from Syracuse.
Post-college, Cathy headed to Boston, paying her bills by working at a printing company. On the side, she took landscape design classes at Radcliffe College (Harvard) and loved it. She began working for a landscape architect, creating residential drawings for new-construction projects all over Boston. She laid out driveways, terraces, and steps, and provided detailed plant lists, but once the drawings were complete, the work was handed off to landscapers and masons. Much of the advice she received pointed her toward a master’s degree, but she realized, “I’m more hands-on. I’d rather be outside doing my own work.”
Her cousin Mallory, whom Cathy grew up with and adored, was running a plant nursery in a small mining town in southwest Colorado, population 800. After Mallory’s mother died, she was left running the business while raising two small children and needed help. Cathy said she’d come out for the summer. She loved being outside—tending, pruning, and feeding the plants so much that she ended up staying.
Cathy’s rapport with customers, combined with her plant knowledge, soon led to requests for custom landscape projects. One day, she helped a customer who had bought so many plants, they wouldn’t fit in her car. Cathy offered to transport a load, and when she arrived at the woman’s home, the customer said, “Thank you so much—can you help me plant?” And with that, Cathy had her first private client.
Word spread among the second-home owners who wanted their houses to look beautiful, but weren’t particularly interested in doing the work themselves. Although guarded about imposing on the privacy of her clients, and not inclined to brag, Cathy is reluctant to share names, largely because most U.S. households would recognize them. For many of these clients, Colorado was an escape from notoriety, and Cathy remains respectful of their desire to fly under the radar.
Two of her beloved clients were Ricky and Ralph Lauren. Not only did they become Cathy’s clients, but they became great admirers of her work. As iconic figures in fashion, with a strong sense of color and design, that had to feel good. Sometimes they wanted to refine or improve existing landscapes, often they wanted to build more. With their obvious high standards, Ralph and Ricky paid close attention to the gardens that Cathy planted and they worked closely as a team. Cathy’s last comment on the subject was simple: “They were lovely, appreciative, and very generous.”
In November, when the growing season was done and the snow began to come, Cathy divided her time between New York City, where her sister Ann lived, and Clinton, where her parents, Boru and Ann, had retired and settled. During these off-season months, she did freelance work for The New York Times Magazine, pulling together submissions for industry design contests, and helped care for her aging parents.
In 2008, Cathy’s father died, and she knew it was time to move to Clinton. She began poking around and saw that The Clinton Florist was for sale. In January 2009, she bought it. Cathy chuckles. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I was a landscaper who knew a lot about perennials.”
She still had to wrap up obligations in Colorado, so she spent that summer transitioning away from her Colorado clients and the grand gardens she had created for them. No one was happy to see her go. Although she’d never say this herself, she was a big loss to her clients. Her innate sense of color, balance, and beauty, was going to be hard to replace.
Her time as The Clinton Florist, began on Kellogg Street that fall, in a cold basement space with quarry-stone walls. It was a cool, one-of-a-kind spot. Cathy says she learned as she went along, but retail was a world apart from the flow state of designing and maintaining gardens for a handful of clients. Now there were innumerable calls and drop-ins, a huge range of inventory, and a wide variety of customers whose needs extended well beyond landscapes: holidays, special occasions, weddings, funerals, well wishes. “You’re a florist year-round,” Cathy says. Her cousin, Marietta von Bernuth, came on board to help, as did the previous owners, Renee and Robin. As Cathy puts it, “The team worked, and we had a lot of fun in those years.”
One thing that really needed to change was the location. Cathy describes the Kellogg space as miserably cold in the winter, recalling that she finally said to her team, “We’re too old for this.” In 2016, she found space that she loved in the village of Clinton and describes it simply as “great.” She was three minutes away from her ninety-something-year-old mother, had a team that truly knew what they were doing, and had figured out how to satisfy the variety of retail demands.
In March 2020, she was not unique in having to shutter her doors. What was different was that people kept calling. They wanted flowers sent to family members, especially those in nursing homes. Flowers became small gestures of connection, and because Cathy could still get flowers, she kept working.
After COVID, Cathy’s business evolved into what it is today. Much like her days in Boston and Colorado, she knows exactly who her clients are because she’s chosen them, and she’s able to order just what she needs.
Cathy says she loves working with brides and grooms because “weddings are such happy occasions.” Working within a bride’s budget is a challenge she enjoys. She described one recent wedding where the bride showed her a picture of eight hydrangeas in a bowl—beautiful, but expensive. Cathy showed her how one stem could be just as lovely and effective. Sold. Another bride said to her, “You know that expression, less is more? With me, more is more.” Understood.
When you see pictures of the weddings she has done—or have been lucky enough to attend one—it’s almost laughable to hear her say, “I’m feeling more confident about my skills, figuring out what works, and meeting people’s expectations.” But that humility is endearing.
A few years ago, Cathy began growing flowers of her own at the house her grandparents built for her uncle Roderick, and at her home in Clinton. People often request locally grown flowers.Today, she grows peonies, dahlias, delphiniums, and a whole host of annuals, and she hopes to add new varieties every year. Her cutting gardens bring her immense joy.
My time with her ends with another glimpse into who Cathy Clark is, when she says, “If you ever need something for your mother or the senior citizen in your life, I’ll drop everything.”
There is no website, no social media, and no on-line ordering, but she does take phone orders. Cathy Clarke, The Clinton Florist, 315-853-2731.
