Some flowers are just flowers. French flowers are something else entirely. A pale lily placed on a lover’s table—a promise, or maybe a warning. A crushed rose in the pages of an old book—a love story that ended too soon. Wisteria curling over a chateau’s iron gate, watching history unfold, watching lovers leave and never return.

This collection is made of Parisian gardens at dusk, of perfume lingering on silk, of letters left unsent. Delicate florals spill across the walls like poetry—peonies in faded blush, wild roses tangled in deep green vines, violets pressed into antique gold. These are flowers that have seen things—affairs, betrayals, declarations made in candlelight.

A bouquet can start a war. A bloom can break a heart.

Let the petals fall where they may.