Kitten

Kitten started with my cat, Cherub. He’s a cream British Shorthair with huge doe-like eyes, little legs, and the softest fur. He starts purring if you touch him—or sometimes just say his name—then flops over for belly rubs. He’s ridiculously sweet, cuddly, and a little mischievous. There’s this warm, almost milky sweetness when I bury my nose in his fur, and I wanted to somehow bottle that feeling.

I kept coming back to vanilla pudding, milk tea, warm skin, and pears cooked in wine. The vanilla brought that creamy, sugary softness, but the pear made everything click: fresh and juicy enough to keep it light and playful. To me, Kitten is a freshly showered evening at home, tea with milk and sugar, and Cherub on my lap making biscuits. I wanted it to feel like cuddling a kitten smells.