So, you’re thinking about roses, huh? Beautiful things. Absolute monsters to deal with, though. Those thorns, man. They’re not playing around. For ages, I was just butchering my hands every time I went near my climbers or even the shrub roses.
My early glove game was weak. So weak.
I started off, like probably most folks, with just my regular, cheapo cotton gardening gloves. You know the ones, usually green or covered in some flowery pattern. Thought they’d be fine. Ha! That was a joke. First prune of the season, and those thorns went right through like the gloves weren’t even there. My hands looked like I’d been petting a very angry porcupine.
Then I figured, okay, gotta get something tougher. So I went out and bought a pair of those thicker, leather-palm gloves. The kind that say “heavy duty” on the tag. They felt more substantial, I’ll give ’em that. But here’s the thing with rose thorns, especially the big, woody ones on established plants – they’re sharp and they’re persistent. Some still got through, especially around the seams. And worse? I couldn’t really feel what I was doing. Snip, snip, oops, there goes a new bud because my fingers were like sausages in those things.
Then came the era of the impenetrable, but useless, gloves.
I was getting desperate. My wife was starting to give me the side-eye every time I came in looking like I’d lost a fight with a barbed wire fence. So, I went all out. Found these gauntlet-style gloves. Seriously, they went almost up to my elbows. Thick leather, probably could stop a small caliber bullet. And you know what? No thorns got through. Not a single one.
Victory, right? Wrong. I couldn’t bend my hands. At all. Trying to hold secateurs was like trying to pick up a pin with oven mitts on. Pruning became this awkward, clumsy battle. I was wrestling the roses more than pruning them. My arms were safe, sure, but the plants probably looked worse for wear from my fumbling.
Why am I so hung up on these gloves, you ask? Well, let me tell you about “The Great Rose Massacre of ’22.”
There was this one glorious spring day. Perfect pruning weather. I had my “impenetrable” but clumsy gloves on. I was tackling this massive ‘New Dawn’ climber that had decided to try and eat the side of the garage. Because I couldn’t feel properly, I was making bad cuts. I mean, really bad. Hacking away. I took off way too much in some places, not enough in others. And then, because the gloves were so stiff, I lost my grip on a big thorny cane I’d just cut. It swung back and whipped me right across the cheek. Missed my eye by an inch. The gloves protected my hands, but the experience? Terrible. I remember sitting on the grass afterwards, hands throbbing from the effort of just wearing the gloves, face stinging, looking at the mangled rose, and thinking, “There has to be a better way.” My neighbor, old Mr. Henderson, who grows award-winning roses, just peeked over the fence, shook his head slowly, and went back inside. Didn’t say a word. That stung more than the thorns.
So, I went back to the drawing board. I started really looking, reading reviews, not just grabbing the first thing that said “thorn proof.” What I found was that a lot of it is marketing fluff. “Indestructible!” “Ultimate Protection!” Most of it is still a compromise.
What I’m using now, and why it’s… okay.
I finally landed on a pair that are made of a softer, more pliable goatskin, but with a reinforced palm and fingers, and they go a decent way up my forearm – not full gauntlets, but enough to protect my wrists. They’re not perfect. A really determined, sharp thorn on an old woody stem can still occasionally poke through if I’m careless and grab it just wrong. It happens.
But here’s the deal:
- I can actually feel the stems and branches.
- I can manipulate my secateurs properly.
- They offer a good amount of protection for most day-to-day rose wrangling.
- My hands don’t look like they’ve been through a shredder after every session.
So yeah, finding the right gardening gloves for roses, it’s a bit of a journey. Don’t expect miracles. You’re still dealing with nature’s little daggers. But a good pair makes the whole experience less of a blood sport and more like actual gardening. Still a pain, those roses, but I love ’em. And now, I can tend to them without needing a first aid kit on standby every single time.
