According to a Monster.fr survey, 90% of French employees are open to switching sectors for a new job. Whether driven by economic needs or excitement for change, career shifts are more appealing than ever. But how do you choose wisely without prior experience? Career transitions require careful planning. It was a former colleague's dream of becoming a florist—with no real insight into the role—that inspired Marc Gesbert, a telecom executive at the time, to launch Viamétiers. Their motto: "To change your life, change your job!" The service lets professionals test dream jobs through 2-, 3-, or 5-day immersions alongside experts. This 'live my life' professional experience cuts through fantasies and can be funded via your company's Individual Right to Training (DIF). Benefits include understanding pros and cons, building confidence, saving time with tailored advice, networking, and making informed decisions before costly, lengthy training.
As a lifelong journalist, I've often fantasized about a second career—perhaps as a florist, given my love for flowers and nature. I envision bustling days free from the intense stress that plagues my current role. To test this, I signed up for a two-day immersion. Preparation started with a one-hour call from a retraining consultant, probing: "Where does this flower interest stem from? How long have you considered this switch? What strengths do you bring? What salary do you expect? Does it align with your desired lifestyle?" This Socratic dialogue sharpened my focus, teaching me key questions to ask and observations to make during the immersion.
I arrived at Cyrille and Cathy's Paris flower shop at 9:45 a.m. Both former IT professionals turned florists, they welcomed me with coffee before hauling planters outside. At 0°C, I was glad for advice on warm clothes and insulated shoes. They'd risen at dawn for Rungis market, returning with foliage (red eucalyptus, green eucalyptus, mastic, myrtle) and flowers (waxflower, tulips, anemones, buttercups, lilacs, roses)—many I couldn't identify. Without botany or horticulture knowledge, advising clients or caring for varieties (pruning, watering) is tough; remedial training would be essential. Next: unpack, strip rubber bands, remove lower leaves and thorns, diagonally cut stems for better water uptake, re-bundle tens straight. Challenge: twisting stems before retying—my hand cramped, patience waned. No lunch break; the shop stays open. They'd been up since 4 a.m., closing at 8:30 p.m. or later, hitting Rungis 2-3 times weekly. Few morning customers amid cold, snow, rain, holidays, month-end, elections. Their salary: one-third of prior IT pay. At 5 p.m., a fax order from Japan. Cathy crafted a budget bouquet; I swept fallen leaves—like at a salon, constant tidying warms you up!
Outside: -8°C. Inside: 6°C. Despite layers, tights, gloves, I shivered. Freezing weather meant no customers, so we cleaned: vacuumed windows, discarded damaged blooms. Afternoon picked up—a man vented about a wife spat, buying three roses after our listening. "Flowers aren't like wine; they carry stories," Cathy noted. Evening delivery: a birthday bouquet in a trusted budget. She created a moss-lined basket bursting with roses, ranunculus, foliage. I soaked floral foam blocks in icy water, shaped them post-saturation. Stunning result—like fresh-picked. Closing: hauled in bins, rolled blind, final sweep. Inventory and ordering next—not my task. I left a trainee tradition note in the shop restroom: "Unsure if I'll become a florist, but if so, just like you!"
The consultant followed up with another hour-long debrief, dissecting preconceptions and fears. If needed, they'd craft a retraining action plan. Key question: "Ready to become a florist?" My answer: no, for now. The immersion revealed grueling hours—not just flower love suffices for shop management. "I warn to test true motivation," Cathy had said. These experiences confirm commitment.
