Kept her secrets one more time

I adored this at the first spray, the lychee and caraway gave the bergamot and woods a bright, sweet herbal sparkle. The opening glittered in shades of quick movement, capturing a slightly new combo with each heady saccharine sniff, like I was trying to capture a dance in candlight while sipping cola, and I let myself be transported to a French dance hall in the 1900’s. (Cola was invented in 1886, so this isn’t entirely anachronistic). The dance continues on, the caraway underlying the supporting florals, as a powderiness that was a hint before comes flaring out as the top layers finish their act. Finally, the mystery of the finish. The cola is gone, long blended into the act, and the fresh herbs and spices blend with the aromatics and woods hinting at a long night ahead in a whirl of skirts, but then…the candles go out, and the dancers are gone, after a shorter performance than you wanted.

After only about three hours, the scent was gone, and I needed to respray if I didn’t want to feel as nude as Mata Hari herself after a performance. I felt the scent had more to give, leaving some secrets behind in the fade-out that happened quickly on me. I’m not sure if that’s just what the scent did on me, and if others had a longer experience, but it seemed like my skin swallowed this up.

Named for the birth year of Mata Hari, a woman of continued mystery in her lifetime. She was a wife and mother who became an exotic mystery when her marriage failed, a Dutchwoman who reinvented herself as a Javanese Hindu princess in a time when people didn’t know there wasn’t such a thing. The French decided to use her allure on an intelligence mission against the Russians, and the rest became history. This scent is just as mysterious as its namesake, making promises with a kiss and leaving you wanting more.