Tina Worboys | June 2026
Designing something so from the heart and on such a large stage is a daunting prospect. What saw me through initially was ignoring the noise around Chelsea (which I’m sure you’ll agree is a lot) and simply focussing on my thoughts, ideas, connections and storytelling. Thinking about my little space, how it could make people feel, what tools I could use to make connections and tell stories.
Designing big curved metal structures, inspired by amber glass, seemed a little bonkers at times. I don’t mind telling you that I had a serious wobble the day I put all the planters and structures together and the juxtaposing textures (ones I’d embraced at the drawing board) now starkly opposed each other sitting there loud and proud in the hallowed Chelsea show ground.
“Trust the process” I heard an inner voice say. “You’ve lived with this design for so long, you know every detail of it. Know that the plants are the vital missing link. Never judge a design before it's finished; you know that. It’ll be OK.”
The joy of a strong structure means the planting can do its thing without constraint. And that’s the style of planting I love. It's that juxtaposition again. Contemporary with traditional, hard lines with soft blurs, the big and the small, the noise and the quiet, the wild and the geometrical.
Once all the textures were layered in, I knew we had created something special. There’s always the worry that the outcome will be the sum of its parts and always the hope that some alchemy will take place and the outcome will connect with the viewer on deeper, emotional, primal level.
The public response to the garden was overwhelming. There was no shortage of tears shed. The cocooning space at the heart of the garden was repeatedly referred to as a warm hug; those amber tones, the scale of the structures, that slight overlap as the two sections met and held the space.
I had many conversations with families and individuals who offered that their loved one, living with Alzheimer’s or dementia, would feel safe in the space. How they themselves would feel nurtured and comforted.
Through the abstract ideas of protection and the apple cider vinegar story I had sought to create a space that felt calming and safe. From the rhythmic bubble of water, the sight of pollinators at work, the colour palettes at play, the simplicity at the heart of the garden and familiar nature all around.
This experience has given me so much but my overriding thoughts are of the human connections I made and how the garden made people feel. It’s this that will fuel me forwards as I explore how I can build on what I’ve learned from this extraordinary experience.
Alzheimer’s Society: Microbes & Minds garden, as featured at RHS Chelsea Flower Show, will be relocated to a Hallmark Luxury Care Home in Brentwood, Essex.
I want to say a huge thank you to Alzheimer’s Society for sponsoring this garden and embracing the design.
