Chasing Autumn brings to life the autumn I've always yearned for, living in Florida's endless summer. It's a scent that captures not just a season, but a frame of mind and a state of being I'm perpetually seeking. Millais' painting Autumn Leaves comes to mind - a twilight scene where young girls gather fallen foliage, their faces touched with a melancholic reverence for the changing season. The painting draws our eyes to a vivid pile of rustling leaves, with only a wisp of smoke hinting at a distant bonfire.
This fragrance, however, boldly brings that bonfire to the forefront. The fir and birch tar notes roar to life, evoking the crackling warmth of autumn nights I've only imagined. It's as if Morris has taken that implied warmth from Millais' canvas and made it the heart of this olfactory experience. The leather and coffee accords add depth, reminiscent of cozy evenings of the sort I feel in Emily Brontë's poetry.
Emily Brontë's "Fall, Leaves, Fall" echoes as I wear this scent. Her words are not just poetry, but an invocation - a chant to usher in the coming winter. The line "Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree" feels like a spell being cast, and this fragrance embodies that mystical transition. Where Brontë's poem is a call to the approaching cold, Chasing Autumn captures the very essence of that summoning.
ALSO this scent conjures the underlying atmosphere of Over The Garden Wall, stripped of its childish elements (I love those elements! But!) It evokes that sense of being lost in an autumnal otherworld, where mystery and melancholy reign supreme. The fragrance captures the essence of wandering through the Unknown, with its subtle menace and ominous presence lurking just beneath the surface of fallen leaves and shadowy forests.
Chasing Autumn is an homage to those flickering fires of autumn, allowing me to immerse myself in a fall feeling that exists more in my mind than in my subtropical reality. It's a sensory journey to the autumn I chase year after year, never quite reaching but always dreaming of - a season both beautiful and slightly foreboding.
Chasing Autumn brings to life the autumn I've always yearned for, living in Florida's endless summer. It's a scent that captures not just a season, but a frame of mind and a state of being I'm perpetually seeking. Millais' painting Autumn Leaves comes to mind - a twilight scene where young girls gather fallen foliage, their faces touched with a melancholic reverence for the changing season. The painting draws our eyes to a vivid pile of rustling leaves, with only a wisp of smoke hinting at a distant bonfire.
This fragrance, however, boldly brings that bonfire to the forefront. The fir and birch tar notes roar to life, evoking the crackling warmth of autumn nights I've only imagined. It's as if Morris has taken that implied warmth from Millais' canvas and made it the heart of this olfactory experience. The leather and coffee accords add depth, reminiscent of cozy evenings of the sort I feel in Emily Brontë's poetry.
Emily Brontë's "Fall, Leaves, Fall" echoes as I wear this scent. Her words are not just poetry, but an invocation - a chant to usher in the coming winter. The line "Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree" feels like a spell being cast, and this fragrance embodies that mystical transition. Where Brontë's poem is a call to the approaching cold, Chasing Autumn captures the very essence of that summoning.
ALSO this scent conjures the underlying atmosphere of Over The Garden Wall, stripped of its childish elements (I love those elements! But!) It evokes that sense of being lost in an autumnal otherworld, where mystery and melancholy reign supreme. The fragrance captures the essence of wandering through the Unknown, with its subtle menace and ominous presence lurking just beneath the surface of fallen leaves and shadowy forests.
Chasing Autumn is an homage to those flickering fires of autumn, allowing me to immerse myself in a fall feeling that exists more in my mind than in my subtropical reality. It's a sensory journey to the autumn I chase year after year, never quite reaching but always dreaming of - a season both beautiful and slightly foreboding.