Inspired by a line in a poem by Rumi, the 13th century Sufi poet,?I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways”, Hundred Silent Ways communicates love wordlessly through a series of little flourishes of fruit and flowers as tender as the skin of a loved one. There is an undeniably girlish flirtatiousness about Hundred Silent Ways, but it is also very elegant.
The opening is ambrosial and frankly sensual, a Rococo burst of sweet, syrupy peaches, mandarin orange, and tuberose petals so juicy sweet that you will want to gulp it down greedily, heedless of the red juice staining your mouth. Bathed in a cloud of marshmallow-soft musk, the fruit and flowers slowly become more abstract and hazier in feel, but thanks to a touch of cool, powdery iris, it never loses its sparkle. By the time you get to the nutty, savory woodiness of the sandalwood in the base, soaking up all the rich, buttery excesses of gardenia, fruit, and cream, you will have been completely won over by the inviting deliciousness of Hundred Silent Ways. It is the rare fruity floral that seduces you without so much as a word.