NikEy

"Take the last drop. The sharpest, most pungent oud you can find and stir it in turpentine." At least that's what the ancient recipe said, and unfortunately that's how it was done. A sharp and pungent dung oud jumps the carrier. With a smell just like fresh sawdust mixed in a corrosive solvent. The other ingredients seem to have been designed to be a funny decoration without function.

Anyone who - like Terra - can gain an artistic side to this fragrance through new combinations or - like Mbayer1987 - a multifaceted richness through minimal flashes of other notes, has my fullest admiration. For me, this is by far the worst oud fragrance, apart from oud chords, that I have had the pleasure of meeting so far. Anyone who has ever smelled 'Oud Burmi' and thought: "Man, that's bad!" has never heard of Oud de Burgas. Where Oud Burmi at least still has a perceptible floral component and delights us with its short durability, Oud de Burgas, on the other hand, lingers in the eternal turpentine pond. Not to mention the horrendous difference in price!

The fact that it becomes more pleasant after hours is certainly more to do with the declining projection than with the fact that the sharp solvent note actually weakens over time. And even if you want to get here, you have to go a painful way...

The exciting topic of oud covers a wide field. This is largely due to the ambivalent material itself. And even if it can often be clearly animalistic, medical or smoky leathery, it seems to me that all negative facets have been potentiated to the point of unwearability. Whoever wants to find a seriously wearable oud smell or even an introduction to this topic is urgently advised against this. For real fans a test might be interesting, but not more.

At the beginning of my perfume time, I rarely dealt with flowers. Especially white flowers I even found quite difficult until recently. But after more and more floral fragrances have been added to my watch and test list, I am slowly realizing what wonderful potential can be found in these sensual natural beauties. Often the scent is much less innocent and pure than the flower tries to make us believe in its appearance and colour...

Malesia does not begin - as expected or hoped - with an animalistic oud prelude. Instead, one is placed directly on a bed of animal ambergris. A sweet syrup of indolan blossoms rains in soft spots on the skin. This is the main theme, but surprisingly it is never overwhelming or too intrusive. These impure white flowers, together with the ambergris fragrance, are responsible for the extremely fine, noble dirt at the beginning.
This phase can be described as animalistic. But it is much less severe and much brighter than with rougher components such as civet or beaver's horns. I know a similar ambranote from "Magnetic Blend 1" by Initio. In XerJoff's Malesia it works together with the Indol more like sweaty skin, but it can never hide a pure, airy-clean side completely.
In the course of time, red fruits reveal themselves, which together with the flowers are underpinned by soft balsamic tones, fine spice and coumarin tonka. Oud fits well into the overall context, flashing up again and again and playing around the rather feminine notes with its animalistic woodiness. Acts more like a masculine base for the floral and amber notes, and was thus perhaps less often smelled as in the frequent combination with rose.

The base will be skin!(close). And it smells like that, too. Lightly sweaty, but still fresh. Summery and hot. Sensual and full of love. Erotic and sexy. Musk, oud and ambergris create a classic oriental base that I have rarely smelled so well, even in the better attars.

Not only the fruity note of red fruits that accompanies the fragrance reminds me of Al Kimiya's "Kemi". Rather, this fragrance also seems to touch on some others of the brand, which incidentally also belongs to Sergio Momo. While I classify the Sillage of Malesia rather in the medium-high range, the pleasant basic (skin) scent remains until after the next shower.