I’ve never had much of a green thumb. Without ever meaning to, I am an enemy to all plant life, a horticultural assassin. Your ferns and rosebushes aren’t safe around me. I even killed a cactus in my pitiful gardening history (a feat I’m told you actually have to work at). And while basil plants wilt and grass shrivels in my presence, a flourishing wardrobe: Now, that I can cultivate…