Lavatera, one of the Many Mallows!

Family: Malvaceae (Mallow family)
Genus: Lavatera
Species: thuringiaca

Is it just my imagination, or is this the Year of the Mallow? Suddenly I see them everywhere, particularly Lavatera thuringiaca in its several varieties. Across Whatcom County there are stands of mallow, mallow hedges, and towering single specimens dominating their beds. Just last week I spied a stunning arrangement of L. thuringiaca combined with masses of what looked to be Lavandula dentata. It was a perfect study in gray-green foliage accented by the mallow’s pink-rose blossoms and the deep blue-purple flowers of the French lavender. The composition was perfectly in scale with the large area in which it was placed. Much too big for my yard, true; but that doesn’t mean that my smallish city lot can’t accommodate one L. thuringiaca placed prominently in an underplanted but central flower bed. It has been said that this fast-growing, mid-sized shrub—to six feet in all directions—can bring a note of established elegance to any garden, but particularly a new one. Goodness knows, my yard can use all the notes of “established” and “elegance” it can muster.

The Malvaceae or Mallow family is a huge one, including perennials, biennials, and annuals in at least 75 genera native to the Americas, Africa, Asia, and all regions of Europe. Mallows were favorites of the Romans, written about by Mendel, and remain very popular today. Many are old friends—Hibiscus, including Rose of Sharon, and Alcea rosea, the hollyhock. Some are encountered less frequently—Abutilon, commonly called the Chinese lantern tree. Others are perhaps an acquired taste. Okra is a family member, and in my opinion…well, eating okra is a good way to experience one of the common features of the mallows: they have mucilaginous sap and all cook up to a consistency just like glue. Other commonalities include tiny hairs on leaves and similar flower form. But back to mucilage for a moment. This gelatinous secretion offered up by mallows, all parts of which are edible, has been used for centuries for medicinal purposes. In fact, the family name—Malvaceae—is derived from the Greek word for “soft” because of the emollient and healing properties of family members. And most of you may already know that the roots of Altheae officinalis, a mallow native to Europe and Asia, traditionally formed the basis for a very popular confection. A. officinalis is of course the marsh mallow.

There are so many mallows, native to so many regions, with so many useful applications beyond their ornamental value, that confusion reigns in the naming department. In addition to marsh mallows, there are common mallows, rose mallows, tree mallows, sea mallows, gay mallows, musk mallows—you get the idea. It’s best to stick with botanical nomenclature, although even the experts get mixed up from time to time. Mislabeling and inaccurate descriptions are not uncommon. All the more reason why I should return immediately to the mallow at hand. Perhaps I’ll write about its cousins later.

Ann Lovejoy has named L. thuringiaca ‘Barnsley’ as the longest-blooming perennial in the Northwest. The pretty pink flowers of this variety have darker, rose eyes when new and then fade all to pink, sometimes reverting to that single color entirely. From early July to mid fall, they are abundant on long, arching branches that are supple enough to move hypnotically with the breeze. This open and airy shrub thrives in full sun, growing rapidly when given a moderate amount of water. Rich soil and frequent feeding will actually inhibit flowering, so go easy on the special care or you’ll have mostly foliage to appreciate. Cut your Lavatera thuringiaca back hard in winter to keep it from looking unkempt. Actually, it is in some sources described as hardy only to Zone 8; in others, to Zone 5. A mallow mystery. Another is its susceptibility to pests and diseases. I couldn’t find any information about this, although if I were an aphid, I’d certainly pick L. thuringiaca out of a crowd. Ask me about mallow hardiness, pests, and diseases next spring, when I’ll have fresh experience to offer. And do watch for what has been described as enthusiastic self-sowing. My only concern about this beautiful plant is that it enjoys the Northwest too much. It does so well in so many different places all around Whatcom County! I hope that a few years down the garden path, it won’t appear on any list put out by the watchers of noxious weeds. If that unlikely event were to occur, we could mount a campaign to cut all L. thuringiaca down and boil it up for hand lotion.