Why I Went Down This Rabbit Hole
Last Tuesday was my turning point. Spent 20 minutes yanking deadheads off my Gertrude Jekyll roses when a ¾ inch thorn skewered my crappy cloth gloves like butter. Blood bled right through the fabric – looked like I’d murdered someone. That’s when I knew I needed armor, not fabric.
Test Drive Disaster
Grabbed three pairs from my shed for immediate testing:
Pair 1: Those stretchy jersey gloves with rubber dots. Failed instantly. Rose thorns laughed while punching holes straight through.
Pair 2: Leather work gloves. Lasted three snips before thorns pierced the seams around the thumb.
Pair 3: Dishwashing gloves. Won’t tear? Sure! But felt like operating rose clippers with hot dog fingers.
Key Features That Actually Work
After researching and wasting $42 on useless gloves, three things proved non-negotiable:
- Double-dipped rubber coating – not that thin spray-on nonsense. Thick enough to make thorns bounce off, flexible enough to actually feel stems.
- Gauntlet-style cuffs covering wrist bones. Most puncture wounds happen where sleeve ends meet glove.
- Kevlar threading between fingers. Sounds fancy but it’s just woven plastic threads stopping sideways stabs.
Real World Testing Wins
Found one pair meeting all criteria. First trial: wrestling my thorny Reine des Violettes climber.
Result:
Heard thorns scraping against the rubber palms like nails on a chalkboard. Zero penetrations after 20 aggressive prunings.
The cuffs? Game-changer! No more leaning into bushes like a bomb technician.
My Permanent Fix
Been using them daily for deadheading season. They’re definitely not cute gardening gloves – more like industrial gear. But when I come out thorn-battle without new stab wounds? Worth every cent.
Lesson learned? Rose gloves aren’t accessories. They’re armor built for war.
