Among all the flowers she tended, the Rose was the one Elizabeth Wightman returned to—again and again. Not for its perfection, but for its complexity. A rose is never just one thing: it’s soft yet thorned, delicate yet enduring, fleeting yet unforgettable.In crafting this fragrance, I didn’t seek the powdery idea of a rose, but the wild, living bloom she loved—still wet from the morning fog, warmed by sun, framed by green. There’s something unapologetic in its presence. It doesn't whisper, it speaks.Much like a favorite poem, it reveals itself slowly. First, the moisture of the garden—the fresh green. Then, the bloom, rich and red and breathing. And finally, a trace of something darker beneath—like memory, or longing.To wear Rose is to carry beauty and boldness in equal measure. It’s a scent I created in the spirit of elizabethW—who knew, like the rose, how to be both graceful and strong.