The History of Artificial Flowers

The History of Artificial Flowers

For almost a hundred years, alongside "perfume by weight," a second term adorned every facade of HARRY LEHMANN: "artificial flowers." Learn why they were included from the beginning, how prominent they were in the store, and where they disappeared to in 2024.

"Perfume by weight" and "artificial flowers"

Eight addresses in just over 100 years, and on every facade, the same words were emblazoned: "Perfumes by Weight" and "Artificial Flowers" – the advertisements. Sometimes in cursive, sometimes in Fraktur, sometimes as neon signs. But always both slogans, always equally prominent.

Even today, passersby pause for a moment in front of Kantstraße 106, craning their necks and murmuring, "Perfume... and artificial flowers. Aha." Then their gaze drops to the display window, only to realize that the words "artificial flowers" no longer fit the picture. What they see are fragrances: on the table, on the shelf, in customers' hands. But flowers? A bouquet on the counter, a second one on the shelf. Nothing more.

Comparing this sight with old photographs reveals much that is familiar: the flacons, the golden scales, the dropper, and even Mrs. Dallmann. One difference catches the eye: in the old pictures, the display windows on the left and right are filled to the top with blossoms, because the artificial flowers at HARRY LEHMANN were not just decoration. They were merchandise, part of the assortment, a main pillar of the business.

"Perfume and Artificial Flowers" – from the very first address, both terms stood side-by-side
Lapel flowers for clothing in a display case in one of HARRY LEHMANN's first stores
The lettering was also integrated into the neon sign on Kantstraße and still adorns it to this day

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A unique business - with two pillars

When Eduard and Harry Lehmann opened their perfumery on Potsdamer Strasse in March 1926, Berlin was a city adorned with flowers. Colorful bouquets were not only found in vases. Silk flowers also adorned hats, dresses, or lapels. In the twenties, artificial flowers were primarily a fashion accessory, and the German artificial flower industry was at its peak. Its center was in Sebnitz in Saxon Switzerland, while Berlin was the main sales market.

Father and son therefore relied on two mainstays from the very beginning: perfume, which could be weighed out by the gram, and artificial flowers, which customers bought in addition, pinned on, or displayed at home. The goods initially came from Sebnitz and from Berlin wholesalers, and later also from overseas.

What HARRY LEHMANN made of it was the combination: scent and flowers in one shop. "1st business of its kind in Germany," Harry Lehmann had painted on the facade of his first shop. Both product ranges spoke the same language. Lilies of the valley, violets, and red poppies were available in silk in the display case and as a fragrance in a bottle. These very blossoms were among the very first creations of the house. Anyone who bought violets could take the bouquet with them immediately.

The trick that turned two product ranges into one: the flowers were sprayed with the scent. A few drops of lily of the valley on the silk flowers, and the bouquet on the living room table would scent the room for days without wilting. This is how the artificial flower became a room fragrance, long before the term existed. In apartments where people had smoked for decades, this, according to tradition in the house, brought a touch of freshness into the room. So, at HARRY LEHMANN, you could not only buy perfume or only flowers, but also both together: the blossom and its scent.

In the video: Jutta Dallmann talks about her experience during the era of artificial flowers.

1930s to 1950s: The flower survives every relocation

In 1929, the market for artificial flowers collapsed. Hats became simpler, dresses no longer featured trimmings, and the industry shrank. For HARRY LEHMANN, this was no reason to remove the name from the sign. The flowers moved with him to Friedrichstraße 80, where they received their own display window.

When the business was completely destroyed in a bombing raid, a large portion of the artificial flowers was presumably also destroyed. Harry Lehmann personally salvaged undamaged goods from the rubble. However, only eight months after the end of the war, in January 1946, artificial flowers were once again displayed in the window of the new store that Harry Lehmann reopened in a half-destroyed ruin on Mohrenstraße. Brick, boards, and above them a freshly designed sign: "Perfumery by Weight – Artificial Flowers." The city lay in rubble, and silk hydrangeas stood in the shop window.

At Friedrichstr. 80, the artificial flowers were given their own display case.
The destroyed building at Friedrichstraße 80, 1945.
January 1946: HARRY LEHMANN opened a branch in a ruin. Eight months after the end of the war, artificial flowers were once again displayed in the shop window.

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Why artificial flowers?

Year-round. Fresh cut flowers were certainly available in the 1920s, but not always and not cheaply. Without cold chains and air imports, the supply was sparse in the winter months, and a fresh bouquet for the home was a luxury. Silk flowers bloomed all year round.

Imperishable. A good silk rose lasted for decades. In heated, often dark city apartments, this was a strong argument.

The house's trick. At HARRY LEHMANN, you didn't just buy the flower, you sprayed it. With the matching scent, if there was one, otherwise with your favorite scent. This turned the flower arrangement into a room fragrance, long before the term existed. In apartments where people smoked for decades, this – according to tradition within the company – brought a bit of freshness into the room.

1958 to 1980s: Roses, lilac, artificial trees

In 1958, HARRY LEHMANN found its permanent home at Kantstraße 106, and with it, artificial flowers entered their most opulent phase. The economic miracle brought money for interior design for the first time, definitively moving artificial flowers from hats to living rooms.

The assortment ranged from roses, tulips, and chrysanthemums to lilacs, carnations, and lilies, all the way to daisies – from single blooms to ceiling-high branches. Many customers took a matching flower with them for the scent. Others pinned a blossom to their dress or lapel. In the seventies and eighties, when silk flowers and lavish arrangements came back into fashion, the store was filled to the ceiling: palm fronds, hydrangeas, flowering branches in vases, with the fragrances in bottles almost secondary.

Edith Lehmann stands amidst numerous artificial flowers and plants.
Harry Lehmann is barely visible behind the sales counter, surrounded by artificial flowers.
The shop at Kantstr. 106 was a colorful sea of flowers until its closure in 2022.

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A shop where time stood still

After Edith Lehmann's death in 2008, Lutz Lehmann continued to run the business alone and left the shop as it was: yellow woodchip wallpaper, linoleum floors, red lacquered furniture. Two large rooms, one half filled to the ceiling with artificial flowers, the other with fragrances. Outside, artificial flowers had long gone out of fashion. But on the illuminated sign and inside, they continued to bloom unchanged, just as they had in 1958, even though sales were declining.

When Lutz Lehmann died in 2022, the doors remained closed for a year and a half, and the flowers stood in the silent room, watching the bustling city life pass by.

When we took over the shop in March 2024, we kept almost everything: the original counter, Harry Lehmann's desk, the shelves, the apothecary bottles, the recipes. Only the flowers were gone. They no longer suited the times and they no longer suited the business, whose core we wanted to expose: the beautiful fragrances, the manual filling, the individual advice, the experience. In conversations with customers, we later realized that the flowers had also caused confusion from the outside: Is this a flower shop or a perfumery?

Nevertheless, the flowers have not completely disappeared. A few bouquets still stand on the counter and shelves today, as decoration and as a reminder of what accompanied this house for almost a hundred years.

Incidentally, we still offer room fragrances. But today, they are no longer on a sprayed silk rose, but directly in the apothecary bottle: seven room fragrances, including linden blossom and Lavande de Provence.

The flower is gone. What it was meant to do has remained.

The decorative and pleasantly subtle Linden Blossom room fragrance in a brown apothecary bottle
Jutta Dallmann next to a bouquet still arranged by Lutz Lehmann, which we adopted unchanged
Artificial flowers in the new store on Gipsstraße in Berlin-Mitte also serve as a reminder of the past