The usual pink-flowered foxgloves cause my fingers to drum on the desk. Yes, the spikes of flowers have the English it-will-never-get-truly-hot early Summer lushness. (But yes, they often need a bit of staking.) And yes, I like how they very considerately die after flowering, getting out of the way for the hot-weather show of the heat-lovers that make the July, August, and September garden such a thrill. Just let one or two die in peace, to ripen seed, and you'll have pink foxgloves forever.
But, they are pink. And that limits them to the few places (I hope) where you don't also have a lot of fun yellow and chartreuse foliage. Why not a foxglove that loves to pal around with yellow? Then you could have foxgloves anywhere, no matter what other colors were happening. Here's the answer: Digitalis 'Flashing Spires'. Narrow all-green leaves and narrow spikes of pale-yellow flowers are both self-supporting. (Take that, pink foxgloves.) And the color goes as well with pink as it does with red or yellow or orange. (Take that, pink foxgloves.)
Yes indeedy, Flashing Spires self-seeds with gusto. But the plants are very easy to yank, or (if by some miracle you don't have Flashing Spires everywhere) transplant.
Like all foxgloves, deer avoid them completely. And Flashing Spires comes absolutely true from seed, so your spires will always be the same soft-yellow. (Take that, pink foxgloves, whose offspring vary from white to pink to rose.)
I've had Flashing Spires for year (and years), and in forty years or so, look forward to passing it on to my inheritors.

Shooting today for GardenShorts.com at Wave Hill. One of the continent's most thrilling hunks of property, not least because the into-the-vista setting feels like Tuscany but is in the Bronx. Under cultivation, one way or another, for a couple of centuries, but only in the last fifty years have its gardens reached their current dizzying heights of sophistication, density, and extent. Sigh.
Here's a shot along one of the paths in the so-called "wild" garden...
...which doesn't mean wild in the sense of anything goes, the loucher the better. Nor wild in the sense of untouched let alone untamed. It's the layout that's wild, scrambling around a rocky slope on narrow winding gravel paths. Great horticulture crowds the pathways, and as everything soars higher and higher in Summer it becomes a full-body experience. In Spring it's great to have perennial plants that get high fast, when everyone else can be just building up a head of steam. In particular, these tall billowing heads of small yellow flowers. Which I couldn't identify off the bat—a thrill right there: Something new, something else that must be grown myself.
And in this picture the GottaGet is Isatis tinctoria.

Despite the brilliant yellow of the flowers,
isatis is one of two naturally-occurring sources for the deep-blue dye indigo.  (Tropical indigo, Indigofera tinctoria, has flowers that are a mild pink, but nonetheless the plant is loaded with the very same indigo dye, and in much higher concentrations too. In both plants, the dye is extracted from the leaves.) The large and early and many-many-small-flowers bloom heads are a tip-off, or rather a warning, that isatis is a biennial.
It's mission above all is to produce a zillion seeds early in the season, then die and let the seeds have at it.
Isatis is a noxious weed in several Western states, and while it's in the wild all over the East, apparently it's not a thug. So yes, I'll give it a try. If the self-seeding isn't a nightmare, the height and happy yellow of the flowers would be a delight. We'll see....