Oasis by Myrurgia

Another great 80s classic and another disappearance into the mists of time. In “The Mystery of the Perfume” by Rita Schnitzer, it was described as a “warm floral perfume” and recommended for “people with an adventurous and daring spirit.” You certainly had to be daring to wear it, because it left a brutal trail. To me, it smelled like a mixture of intense woods and a suffocating, far-from-subtle tobacco. I haven’t the faintest idea where that tobacco came from, and I don’t identify the pyramid listed here with what I perceived. I clearly remember that on me it smelled of tobacco, even though I didn’t smoke in my teens. I mean, if you weren’t a smoker, you really seemed like one. Oasis seemed aggressive and even rude to me, and you had to have a lot of guts to wear it. I don’t even want to imagine what could come out of a bottle bought on eBay… I suppose it was given to me or I bought it blind, because it never convinced me, and even though I was a kid then, I very much doubt I’d dare to wear it even today. Even so, like everything that was part of a good era and inevitably disappears, I miss it. EDIT: To correct oneself is wise, and with Oasis I have to correct myself and even beg a thousand pardons. As I recounted when re-editing my review of Alada, I found an old perfume shop where I was able to get a bottle of each. Despite not particularly liking it during my adolescence, I asked the seller if I could smell it, and he was kind enough to spray it on me. My goodness, how one’s own perception of sensations changes over the years… The scent that more than 30 years ago seemed suffocating and overwhelming to me now seems seductive and full of personality. It doesn’t surprise me that no one has managed to find similarities with other fragrances, because it doesn’t resemble any other that I, at least, have smelled. Indeed, Oasis is daring, but it no longer seems aggressive to me, rather alluring. Oasis reaches out toward pure kaleidoscopic and disconcerting fantasies. It begins citrusy, but suddenly herbaceous, sweet, woody, spicy and even marine nuances arise. It leaves a freshness of those old pine shower gels with a sweetish touch and, in particular, reminds me of Tulipán Negro. In the opening, I notice rosewood more than citrus. Throughout its evolution, the flowers don’t stand out as much as a balsamic air that could come from that rosewood, nutmeg and sandalwood. Above all, I find it very musky and balsamic at the same time, but its musk is unctuous and wrapped in a halo of greenness, far removed from others that are more powdery, harmless and cuddly. I don’t know why it smelled like tobacco to me in my younger years (well, I can suspect that hormones and the transition from girl to woman had something to do with it). It’s possible that illusion came from the woody notes and that they were more intense then, or simply that I perceived them as more intense. That said, despite its more than 30 years (and it wears them very well), its longevity and sillage are prodigious: applied at 8 in the evening, it lasts until well into the next morning. A titan of EDT. I can only add that it is a fragrance for dreaming and venturing into new olfactory worlds. It is of an overwhelming originality that at the time I didn’t know how, or didn’t have the capacity, to appreciate, and it doesn’t surprise me that it was so successful in the 80s. If you are sure to find a well-preserved bottle, get hold of it. It is unique of its kind.

Oh, what memories!!! Another great classic of 80s Spanish perfumery. I wore it in my teens and it was a scent bomb: if you walked past the classroom, all you could smell was you. It was the perfume of a generation. Too bad the house of Myrurgia closed.