I was struck by the huge size of the bottles. This is my first Noodler’s purchase, so I was not prepared for the tall and heavy bottles, filled to the brim to boot! In fact, my first thought was that these inks could last me a couple of years!
Mata Hari's Cordial also happens to be my first pink ink, so I opened its bottle before that of the rest. I loaded it into my Pelikan Grand Place with the 18k medium nib, which I have already soaked and flushed and dried the day before, in anticipation of this moment.
I am quite pleased with this ink. On paper it’s shade of rose, what I know to be "Old Rose," and is not at all washed out. The lines it lays down are thick, rich and clear, and it’s definitely not your ordinary everyday work ink. I would say that it’s a nice and proper Old Rose, the Old Rose that is predictable and familiar, the Old Rose of my hair ribbons from childhood, the Old Rose of my grandmother’s silk jewelry pouches. It’s absolutely wonderful to use for letters and journals, and it has very subtle shading when used on ecruwhite kid finish 32 lb resume paper from Crane.

On other more ordinary papers, though, there is almost no shading.


I have already edited the scans with Photoshop in an effort to capture the Old Rose of the ink. It should be a medium dark dusty rose, not magenta, not fuchshia, not hot pink, not gray pink, and not faded pink. Not too dark, either, and definitely not washed out. Just your regular rose, darkened a few degrees, and rendered “old.” Old Rose. Very 1930’s.
I also like the other qualities of this ink. It dries quickly on the three different papers I’ve tried it on, it does not smear or smudge, does not bleed, and flows almost like Waterman ink. And of course, it is fully waterproof, retaining its color and clarity even after an hour of soaking in tap water.

Truly hardy for something that looks very feminine. (But then again, isn't that the essence of being a woman?)
I did expect something more striking-looking for an ink named after perhaps one of the most enigmatic women in the history of 20th century warfare. I certainly did not expect a prim and proper Old Rose. But I suppose this is just as well. For after all, for all we know, Mata Hari really just might have been the prim and proper Old Rose that history had never made her out to be, and there, in those spaces between mainstream history and the history that will never see the light, lies her magic over us.


