Fig My Love wears like climbing a fig tree in the middle of a warm afternoon, pushing past broad green leaves while the sun breaks through in pieces.

At first, you smell the tree itself. Green leaves, fresh sap, warm bark, and that slightly bitter snap that comes from touching the branch and crushing a leaf in your hand.

Then, somewhere higher up, you find the fruit.

A ripe fig hidden deep in the tree. Soft, natural, and gently sweet, but never sugary. The sweetness feels better because everything around it is still there. The leaves, the bark, the sap, the warmth of the sun.

As it wears, it all starts to come together.

Fig My Love is not just the smell of a fig. It feels like the whole tree, and the small reward of finding the fruit after the climb.