It could have been hilarious but turned out to be a sombre affair as the first Gentlemen's Flower Arranging Club kicked off in Stellenbosch, a cocksure rural crucible of famous rugby players. It is a perfect day for flower arranging; misty rain blotches the windows of the patisserie where the event is held. So serious are the gentlemen, they might be swotting up on the Latin ablative.Flower arranging does not come easily to any of them (there goes a stereotype). Judging from their hairstyles they might be handier with a hair dryer. They all rock stand-out hair, close shaves with a single caterpillar curl, spikes, over-moussed bedheads, bar-code crops and extreme slick backs; a moustache that looks like a hatching lobster moth.Outfits are casually elegant with a predominance of well-ironed linen and the smart funk demanded by Blomboy, whose wish is to bring back "old-fashioned gentlemanly values".story_article_left1Blomboy, aka Alwijn Burger, is a pocket Adonis with Napoleonic energy, doused in Acqua di Rose, a man who has made pretension a lifestyle and is a veteran of salon events and a paid-up member of BAE (before anyone else).He has binged on flowers since he was a child and worked for a florist in London that made Princess Diana's bouquet. "Flowers are a form of genius," he says. "South Africans are spoilt, we take flowers for granted. I wanted to bring back an awareness."He sets out his stall: the flowers include chrysanthemums and roses in Häagen-Dazs ice-cream colours. But mauve is the prevailing colour; a shade unknown before the 19th century.They start off by making a boutonnière. Everyone has a pair of secateurs and an apron. Have you noticed how men just love getting into aprons?The gestures of floristry are familiar, the stripping of the leaves, the almost gynecological examination of petals, discarding and replacing.mini_story_image_vright1The boutonnière has always been controversial. Some might recall how PW Botha used to peer out from behind a weapon-sized pink peony and Boris Johnson often wears something that looks like part of his breakfast on his lapel. KFC recently brought out a boutonnière made from a chicken drumstick.They work away in a fugue-like atmosphere, snip, snap, crack. Many turn out to be a bit on the hefty side. Sadly, the palm leaves have proved irresistible. Thank God there is no gypsophila or fern.However, there is sorcery in the boutonnière which they can't quite master.The next step is the posy. The twist and turn method is explained by ringmaster Burger. It appears easy but many of the results look like damp Catherine wheels. The flowers themselves are part of the problem. Chrysanthemums wearing hair-nets are known to be revengeful.Burger diplomatically downgrades many of them to junk. "You need to build from underneath, using small pieces," he says, folding in twigs.The men work gingerly and cautiously. It is amazing that flower arranging does not come more easily to them; many are designers and stylists."It is fear," says Burger, "they are frightened of the flowers. Of course they must respect the flower but they need confidence, to strike out bravely, to cherish the unfashionable." Even carnations, the hospital tray flower, can look wonderful if bunched tightly together.There is the well-known story of a woman during World War 1 accosting a young man with a flower in his hand, saying: "Why are you not fighting for our civilisation?" He answered: "I am the civilisation you are fighting for."When I tell an English friend, a peer of the realm, he rages, "Never call it a boutonnière, it is common. It is a buttonhole and can only be worn to Ascot or a wedding." Eduan Roos, a gentleman present, counters, "This is all about changing the rules. When it comes to flowers we want more freedom."..