Zerotonin

Imagine opening the wooden door of your mountain cabin early in the morning, where you are enjoying togetherness with yourself this summer week. The birds are chirping, butterflies are on the move. Barefoot you step onto the grass still wet with dew, the sun is already shining quite strongly in your face. With your eyes closed, you enjoy nature, its sounds and scents. Fresh air, grass, cyclamen, hawthorn, wood.
You open your eyes and see the mountain lake in front of you, which presents itself to you in the most beautiful blue.
You make yourself a cup of green tea with a twist of lemon and sit down on the wooden chair in the shade. Next to you, the fresh laundry from the day before dangles back and forth in the breeze. With each breeze, the clean scent wafts into your nose, merging with the crisp, clear air. And as you gaze up at the sky and enjoy your tea, you think you could linger here forever...

...Unfortunately, the base does pull me out of my daydream. As soon as the creamy flowers, the tea and the fresh laundry have warped namely, it is already borderline with the synthetic. All I get is musk and a synthetic wood that can really only be Timbersilk, although listed in my head. No sign of patchouli or sandalwood. I feel a strong desire to re-spray and be back at the mountain lake. And again, and again... I find myself in a vicious circle!

The group of young people is now walking faster. The bright light in the distance seems to slowly come to a stop and approach the ground. They run across the fields, earth swirling up.
The closer they get, the brighter and whiter the surroundings become, soon so white that they have to hold their hands protectively in front of their faces. Small, shimmering sparks of glitter float around, almost like snow, creating a powdery sensation in their noses and mouths as they inhale, similar to the fog machines in discos. An otherworldly, surreal aura surrounds the scene.
A metallic sound, and shortly after, a hatch opening. Things fall out. Mouths agape, the group watches as the hatch closes again and the object noiselessly makes its way away without having shown even a scintilla of interest in the earthlings.
Excitedly they explore the gift that was apparently left for them.
"But... They're only flowers!"
A large pile of iris and heliotrope, in colors the world has yet to see them in, and a single ylang on top leaves the group perplexed.

Divin Part starts with an enchanting, powdery-soft iris that also comes across a bit earthy, and a touch of creamy ylang blossom. It almost puts me in a meditative state, dreamy, peaceful. Also, I perceive a light, sweet vanilla note in the background, reminiscent of Heliotrope.
The musk adds a clear, clean component from the heart onwards, transforming Divin Part into an unsweet cream bomb, strongly reminiscent of a lighter form of Nivea, or even more so of the classic shower cream from Dove.
The durability is really not bad, however, the fragrance is then at some point just as abruptly disappeared, as the unknown flower object after the short stopover.
If this fragrance had a color, it would be the whitest white that you can imagine.
Alienly beautiful!

The Atitlán (means in the language nahuatl something like 'place in the middle of water') is a 3530 meter high, active volcano on the shore of Lake Atitlán in Guatemala. The nature and the panorama must be impressive and unique and invite to a vacation. Whether the place described was really the model for the fragrance, I can not say, especially since Atitlán is written with á, not à. One thing I can say but already times: A volcano he is not.

Atitlàn starts with a creamy, delicate blend of ylang-ylang, mimosa and musk and seems almost transparent. Lovely, floral, bright, with light aquatic hints it smells of my arm and yet makes me think very much of the idyllic landscape of the lake, whose most beautiful photographs I have just looked at.
Unfortunately, the idyll is over after 30 minutes. A strange gum note spreads and the creamy musk turns into something that reminds me strongly of aloe vera shampoo. A little too pungent fresh and bright for my taste.
The base is then again a little more conciliatory, fresh and woody; rubber has warped. Nothing special, but also hurts no one. Who is still waiting for the use of vanilla here, however, will be disappointed. The must have gone swimming...
Atitlàn is not a bad fragrance, but also not new or innovative. Unexcited, sweet, cheerful. With some synthetics, however, you have to be able to handle here.

They switched you after birth. You always knew, that's why you were so rebellious
They called you 'Chocolat', as if there was something happy and sweet about you. Yet you were always somber and serious, albeit with a warm core. In search of your true self, you lost your way, wavering constantly between sour, tart, earthy, dark-spicy, boozy, oriental, green, powdery, sweet...
Your gender? You don't know anymore. You just know that you're exclusively welcome and wanted in the winter. But usually only when they know you, or find you without having sought you out - how many times have you been spurned by people whose expectation of your name you could not meet?
I don't know your real name. But that of your parents: Patchouli and Cocoa.

Chocolat starts with a strong, almost resinous - tart cocoa note. Dry, powdery, dairy-free, sugar-free. Patchouli joins soon and together they dominate the fragrance. In addition, aromatic-spicy nutmeg and a strict, dark vanilla in the background. Tangerine, jasmine? Must have taken flight. Instead, I smell in the heart, very tentatively, a liqueur-like fruitiness, perhaps cherry or plum, which now brings a certain, tart sweetness into play after all. I can't tell if I'm dealing with a gourmand here, though. This scent delivers so many qualities that I find it hard to clearly delineate. Also, something reminds me of wood polish.
The similarity to Angel I perceive, however, Chocolat is more tart, more masculine, more versatile and above all less sweet.

An exciting fragrance, which fell into my hands only by chance and which I would certainly never have found on my own.

She wakes up in a cold sweat. Just a nightmare. The bright full moon pushes halfway under a pale cloud and shines in her face. She pulls off the wet nightgown and searches the semi-darkness for clothes. Her boyfriend's shirt. He wore Patchouli the day before.
To calm herself, she lights a sandalwood candle and plods into the kitchen.
Lost in thought, she looks out the window at the starry sky and enjoys her cup of strawberry fruit tea. After extinguishing her candle, she falls back asleep, comforted by the taste of strawberry in her mouth and the smell of patchouli in her nose.


This fragrance designed 'Mozart', singer of the gothic band Umbra et Imago. Who knows them, I do not need to tell anything. For everyone else: The band is known in the scene for their eccentric live shows. It's about nudity, horniness, BDSM. You gotta like it. I always found it too deliberately provocative. Some good music they have to offer though - for my taste.
The more excited I was about this fragrance, especially as a musk fan. And he starts as I had hoped for:
Extravagant.
Wicked.
A little dirty.
I perceive the musk here clearly animalic and powdery. He dominates the woods completely in the course of the fragrance, patchouli fights through, but also plays only second fiddle. Very far in the background, flowers can be guessed, probably iris or heliotrope, which underpin the powderiness of the musk. Until here great!
The manufacturer states that in addition to the notes mentioned in the fragrance pyramid, a secret, fresh note should be hidden. The nehm I clearly perceive in the base, as soon as musk and his S&M slaves have warped: the fragrance turns to the 'Fruitchouly', and I am firmly convinced that the secret note must be strawberry or cherry. Relatively synthetic and makes for a strange blend with the patchouli, which I ended up not liking as much as the start. An existing scent progression I still wanted to have noted positively, as well as the incredible durability and sillage for the price.
Somehow the fragrance fits the Mozart. Has he made fine!