Kayliz
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It's worth sticking with it.
The opening of Anji Bamboo Mist is so strongly urinous that I almost washed it off. That would have been a mistake.
Over time, the sour-salty mist gives way, revealing a scent that I have always wished for.
You know those inquiries in the forum from young new perfumers looking for a fragrance that radiates "sovereignty," "clarity," and "intelligence"? What nonsense, one thinks, and when in a good mood, one suggests simply following one's nose.
Well. I'll keep it brief:
Grass after rain, wet earth, beeswax, mushrooms, and a faint hint of the old Chanel No.19 come together to form a cloak of crystal-clear alertness, intelligence, and calm joy of life.
Over time, the sour-salty mist gives way, revealing a scent that I have always wished for.
You know those inquiries in the forum from young new perfumers looking for a fragrance that radiates "sovereignty," "clarity," and "intelligence"? What nonsense, one thinks, and when in a good mood, one suggests simply following one's nose.
Well. I'll keep it brief:
Grass after rain, wet earth, beeswax, mushrooms, and a faint hint of the old Chanel No.19 come together to form a cloak of crystal-clear alertness, intelligence, and calm joy of life.
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Mata Hari, where have you gone?
I had a similar experience to Florblanca. First, a wonderfully dry-spicy rose unfolded, but it only lasted a short while. It became increasingly bitter, until very soon only cumin dominated.
Maybe the name Mata Hari refers to this disappearance of the rose? It's certainly not for me; I find this scent to be more masculine than feminine. Less Mata Hari, more James Bond, to be more specific: a slightly sweaty Daniel Craig.
Maybe the name Mata Hari refers to this disappearance of the rose? It's certainly not for me; I find this scent to be more masculine than feminine. Less Mata Hari, more James Bond, to be more specific: a slightly sweaty Daniel Craig.
