Garden Lava
In the last living biome on the fractured planet, there bloomed a flower known only as Garden Lava. The Garden Lava flower looks like a delicate bloom forged from fire—its petals veined with glowing ember-orange, curling inward like they’re mid-melt. A field is like living wildfire frozen in bloom—thousands of ember-lit petals pulsing with heat, their molten tips dripping in slow, rhythmic flickers onto the pale sandstone ground. The air shimmers with their breath, thick with spice and static, as if the flowers are whispering secrets through dust.
Size M long sleeve turtleneck. 100% cotton. Sustainably up-cycled.
In the last living biome on the fractured planet, there bloomed a flower known only as Garden Lava. The Garden Lava flower looks like a delicate bloom forged from fire—its petals veined with glowing ember-orange, curling inward like they’re mid-melt. A field is like living wildfire frozen in bloom—thousands of ember-lit petals pulsing with heat, their molten tips dripping in slow, rhythmic flickers onto the pale sandstone ground. The air shimmers with their breath, thick with spice and static, as if the flowers are whispering secrets through dust.
Size M long sleeve turtleneck. 100% cotton. Sustainably up-cycled.
In the last living biome on the fractured planet, there bloomed a flower known only as Garden Lava. The Garden Lava flower looks like a delicate bloom forged from fire—its petals veined with glowing ember-orange, curling inward like they’re mid-melt. A field is like living wildfire frozen in bloom—thousands of ember-lit petals pulsing with heat, their molten tips dripping in slow, rhythmic flickers onto the pale sandstone ground. The air shimmers with their breath, thick with spice and static, as if the flowers are whispering secrets through dust.
Size M long sleeve turtleneck. 100% cotton. Sustainably up-cycled.