HERE was a fashion some years ago for white gardens. The ladies who made them were usually middle-aged, comfortably off and aware of the intellectual cachet to be gained from copying Sissinghurst in Kent. They were also ineffably dull—the gardens, not the ladies—because it is much more difficult to make a garden from only one non-colour than by playing with all the colours of the rainbow. Once you stick to white—nothing but white—there is little more than green leaves with which to design your composition. And green is so omni-present
