By your ever-so-cynical garden gossip columnist
Remember Jack and the Beanstalk? That fever-dream of a fairy tale where a poor kid climbs a giant vine into the clouds, robs a sky-giant blind, and gets away with it because apparently being vertically ambitious is a moral virtue?
Well guess what? Jack wasn’t just a fairy tale icon. He was the O.G. vertical gardener. Long before Pinterest moms and HOA rule-benders started zip-tying cucumber trellises to their fences, Jack was up there in the clouds saying, “Why are y’all still growing cucumbers like peasants on the ground?”
Let’s talk about vertical gardening. Not because it’s trendy or because we’re all suddenly interested in homesteading after two episodes of a HGTV marathon. No, let’s talk about it because it’s one of the few garden trends that actually makes sense. And also because if you tell people you're “training your zucchini to grow upright,” you sound like either a wizard or a dominatrix, and either way, you win.
The Ground Is for Losers
Let’s face it. The ground is overrated. It’s where weeds live. It’s where slugs throw their orgies. It’s where your dog poops. And yet, year after year, we all get down on our knees like medieval serfs, planting squash and tomatoes into the dirt like we don’t know better.
But what if I told you that you could grow up—literally? That instead of watching your squash plant colonize your entire backyard like it's reenacting Manifest Destiny, you could train it to climb vertically like a well-behaved botanical Cirque du Soleil performer?
Yeah. That’s vertical gardening. It’s like CrossFit for your cucumbers and pole-dancing for your peas.
Enter: Derek Fell, King of the Plant Spire
Let me introduce you to Derek Fell—British expat, garden prophet, and the author of Vertical Gardening: Grow Up, Not Out, for More Vegetables and Flowers in Much Less Space. Basically, he’s the Jack of the Beanstalk Industrial Complex, minus the moral ambiguity and grand larceny.
Derek’s whole shtick is: stop spreading your plants like they're entitled to real estate. Make them climb. Make them perform. Make them earn their sunlight like you earned your HOA citations for “creative trellis design.”
But First, Let’s Talk About the Garden Bed That Eats Itself
Consider the butternut squash. Cute. Orange. Nutty. And apparently possessed by the spirit of suburban sprawl. One plant can take over a 4-by-8-foot bed like it’s reenacting the Oklahoma Land Rush. By the time it’s done, your lettuce has filed for relocation, and your herbs have gone into witness protection.
But if you grow that butternut baby up—on a trellis, a pallet, a rustic bamboo scaffolding that screams “I have a Pinterest board and I’m not afraid to use it”—then guess what? You get your squash and your personal space back. Imagine that.
Soil Pests? Never Heard of Her.
You know what’s not up in the air? Root maggots. Vine borers. Slugs. That entire low-level mafia of garden pests who wait in the dirt like it’s Studio 54 and your plants are the main act.
But you know what? They can’t fly. That’s right. When your squash is swinging overhead on a trellis like a jungle gym gymnast, those grubby little pests are stuck on the ground, plotting their revenge while you sip iced tea and laugh.
Vertical gardening: because “eat dirt” should be something you say to pests—not the other way around.
Turn That Fence Into a Fruit Factory
Got a chain-link fence you hate? Great! It's a ready-made vertical garden. Your backyard eyesore can finally earn its keep. Grape vines, kiwi vines, clematis, whatever you want—just slap some green on it, and suddenly you’re not a yard neglecter, you’re a visionary.
Have a split-rail fence? Even better. It screams rustic farm aesthetic, even if you live in a subdivision called “Maple Estates Phase 4.”
DIY: Duct Tape, Broom Handles, and Bamboo From the Neighbors
Let’s talk about vertical gardening on a budget, which is code for: “I’m about to MacGyver the crap out of this backyard.”
Got an old broom handle? Drive it into the ground and convince your summer squash it’s a pole dancer. Bonus: You’ll spot vine borers easier when they’re exposed on the lower stem.
Neighbor has bamboo? Ask nicely—or just start “pruning” when they’re not home. Bamboo scaffolding makes you look like a sustainable genius, even if your only experience with scaffolds is the time you watched Les Misérables.
Want to build an entire teepee? Get creative. Use T-posts, metal poles, maybe even the guilt from your unfinished garage project. If it can hold up beans, it’s valid.
Pallets: Because You Might As Well Use That Junk You Hoarded
Pallets are the Legos of adult gardening. If you’ve got two pallets and some imagination (and maybe a drill you pretend you know how to use), you can create a lean-to, a squash shelf, or a watermelon hideaway.
Even better: mount nursery pots to the pallet sides like little fruit balconies. Your melons now have condos. You are officially a slumlord of cantaloupe.
Trellises: The Fashion Runway of the Backyard
Trellises are like yoga pants for plants: supportive, flexible, and they make everything look good. Whether it’s wood, vinyl, or a trendy bamboo crisscross that screams I shop at local farmer’s markets, a trellis lets your pole beans live their best, most upright life.
Fun fact: plants have climbing styles. Twining stems (pole beans), tendrils (sweet peas), holdfasts (Virginia creeper), aerial roots (trumpet vine), and thorns (rambler roses)—they’re all in the vertical elite. Clip them, twist them, tie them up. This is Fifty Shades of Green Thumb.
Hanging Gardens of Suburbia
Don’t have ground space? Hang that plant like a chandelier. Use shepherd’s crooks, old ladders, or that rogue curtain rod you “didn’t return in time.”
Derek Fell suggests strawberries, Tumbling Tom tomatoes, and petunias for hanging baskets. Translation: your patio can become an edible chandelier.
Also, stacked planters. Think of them like plant bunk beds. Great for herbs. Looks cute. Less bending over. Zero complaints.
Going Full Garden Architect: Arches, Arbors, and Pergolas
If you’re extra (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a 3,000-word snark blog on vertical gardening, you are), consider going full-on Garden Versailles.
Archway: Two trellises + a curved top = fairy tale portal to your bean patch. Bonus points if it confuses the UPS guy.
Arbor: Like an arch but extra long, perfect for grapes and grand entrances.
Pergola: The Beyoncé of garden structures. Throw in some hammocks, hang up fairy lights, and let your coral honeysuckle go wild while hummingbirds judge your life choices.
Festoons: French for “Fancy Plant Jail”
A festoon is just a single upright and a crossbeam, which sounds like a low-budget guillotine but is actually a stylish plant display. Very French. Very ooh la la. Very I bought this from a catalog and assembled it incorrectly but it still looks great.
Garden Trash Art: The Avant-Garde of Verticality
Feeling bold? Build a trellis from rusted bicycle wheels. Yes, it sounds like something your weird artist cousin would try, but hear me out: it’s a conversation piece. Nasturtiums climbing up a stack of spokes? That’s postmodern whimsy, baby.
Old ladders? Plant stands. Upside-down planters? Literal gravity defiance. Suddenly you’re not a gardener—you’re an eco-revolutionary.
Just make sure your HOA isn’t the fun police. Nobody wants to explain to the board why your garden looks like Banksy’s junkyard.
Pocket Planters: The Plant Purse Wall
Finally, let’s talk pocket planters. If you’ve ever looked at an over-the-door shoe organizer and thought “I bet I could grow lettuce in that,” congratulations—you’re a mad genius and possibly Derek Fell’s spiritual successor.
Mount those pockets to a wall or fence, pop in some pansies, thyme, or mint, and you’ve got a vertical salad bar. Just don’t mistake it for actual shoes in a hurry. Mint-flavored Crocs are not yet a thing.
And In Conclusion: Be Like Jack
So here’s the moral of the story: grow up. Literally. Jack did. He climbed a beanstalk, committed some sky-based larceny, and ended up with a golden goose.
You? You might just end up with less mildew, better airflow, and a summer squash that doesn’t smother your cilantro. But hey, it’s a start.
Vertical gardening isn’t just space-saving. It’s life-saving. It’s aesthetic. It’s strategic. And yes—it’s whimsical, in that magical "I turned a broomstick and some twine into a zucchini Eiffel Tower" kind of way.
So next time someone asks what you’re doing out back with bamboo, baling twine, and an old pallet, you just smile and say:
“I’m channeling Jack. And my squash are about to hit new heights.”
Now go forth. Grow skyward. And tell gravity it no longer gets a vote.
