Zerotonin

The group of young people is now running faster. The bright light in the distance seems to be slowly coming to a stop and approaching the ground. They race across the fields, earth swirling up.
The closer they get, the brighter and whiter the surroundings become, soon so white that they have to shield their faces with their hands. Small, flickering sparkles float around, almost like snow, creating a powdery sensation in the nose and mouth when inhaled, similar to the fog machines in nightclubs. An extraterrestrially beautiful, surreal aura surrounds the scene.
A metallic sound and shortly after, a hatch opens. Things fall out. With their mouths agape, the group watches as the hatch closes again and the object silently departs, showing not even a hint of interest in the earthlings.
Curiously, they explore the gift that has apparently been left for them.
"But... these are just flowers!"
A large pile of iris and heliotrope, in colors they have never seen in the world, and a single ylang on top leaves the group puzzled.

Divin Part starts with a magical, powdery-soft iris that also has an earthy quality, and a hint of creamy ylang blossom. It almost puts me in a meditative state, dreamy, peaceful. I also perceive a subtle, sweet vanilla note in the background, reminiscent of heliotrope.
The musk adds a clear, clean component from the heart and transforms Divin Part into a non-sweet cream bomb, strongly reminiscent of a lighter version of Nivea or even more so of the classic Dove shower cream.
The longevity is really not bad, however, the scent eventually disappears just as suddenly as the unknown flower object after the brief stop.
If this fragrance had a color, it would be the whitest white one can imagine.
Extraterrestrially beautiful!

The Atitlán (which means something like 'Place in the midst of water' in the Nahuatl language) is an active volcano 3,530 meters high on the shores of Lake Atitlán in Guatemala. The nature and the panorama must be impressive and unique, inviting one to vacation. Whether the described place was truly the inspiration for the scent, I cannot say, especially since Atitlán is spelled with á, not à. One thing I can say for sure: It is not a volcano.

Atitlán starts with a creamy, delicate blend of ylang-ylang, mimosa, and musk, and it almost feels transparent. Sweet, floral, bright, with slight aquatic hints, it wafts from my arm and makes me think 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 rubber note spreads, and the creamy musk transforms into something that strongly reminds me of aloe vera shampoo. A bit too piercingly fresh and bright for my taste.
The base is then somewhat more conciliatory, fresh and woody; the rubber has faded away. Nothing special, but it doesn't hurt anyone either. However, those who are still waiting for the use of vanilla will be disappointed. It must have gone for a swim...
Atitlán is not a bad scent, but it is also not new or innovative. Unexciting, sweet, cheerful. However, one must be able to handle a bit of synthetics here.

They mixed you up at birth. You always suspected it, hence your rebellious character.
They called you 'Chocolat', as if there was something cheerful, lovely about you. But you were always dark and serious, albeit with a warm core. In search of your true self, you got lost, constantly wavering between sour, bitter, earthy, dark-spicy, boozy, oriental, green, powdery, sweet...
Your gender? You haven't known it for a long time. You only know that you are welcome and wanted exclusively in winter. But mostly only when they know you, or find you without having searched for you - how often have you been spurned by people whose expectations of your name you could not fulfill?
I do not know your true name. But I know your parents' names: Patchouli and Cocoa.

Chocolat starts with a strong, almost resinous - bitter cocoa note. Dry, powdery, without milk, without sugar. Patchouli soon joins in, and together they dominate the fragrance's progression. Alongside them, aromatic-spicy nutmeg and a strict, dark vanilla in the background. Mandarin, jasmine? They must have fled. Instead, I smell in the heart, very timidly, a liqueur-like fruitiness, perhaps cherry or plum, which now brings a certain, bitter sweetness into play. However, I cannot say whether I am dealing with a gourmand here. This fragrance delivers so many characteristics that I find it difficult to clearly delineate. Something also reminds me of furniture polish.
I perceive a similarity to Angel, but Chocolat is more bitter, more masculine, more versatile, and above all, less sweet.

An exciting fragrance that I stumbled upon by chance and that I would surely never have found on my own.

She wakes up in a sweat. Just a nightmare. The bright full moon is half hidden behind a pale cloud and shines in her face. She takes off the damp nightgown and searches for clothes in the dim light. Her boyfriend's shirt. He wore patchouli the day before.
To calm herself, she lights a sandalwood candle and tiptoes into the kitchen.
Lost in thought, she looks out the window at the starry sky and enjoys a cup of strawberry fruit tea. After she extinguishes her candle, she falls back asleep, comforted by the taste of strawberry in her mouth and the scent of patchouli in her nose.

-

This fragrance was created by 'Mozart', the singer of the Gothic band Umbra et Imago. For those who know them, I don't need to say much. For everyone else: The band is known in the scene for their eccentric live shows. It's all about nudity, lust, BDSM. You have to like it. I always found it too deliberately provocative. However, they do offer some good music - in my opinion.
So I was all the more excited about this fragrance, especially as a musk fan. And it starts just as I had hoped:
Extravagant.
Sordid.
A bit dirty.
I perceive the musk here as distinctly animalistic and powdery. It completely dominates the woods in the scent progression, while patchouli struggles to come through, playing only second fiddle. Far in the background, flowers can be sensed, probably iris or heliotrope, which underpin the powderiness of the musk. So far, fantastic!
The manufacturer states that in addition to the notes mentioned in the fragrance pyramid, there is a secret, fresh note hidden. I clearly perceive this in the base, as soon as the musk and its BDSM slaves have retreated: the scent transforms into 'Fruitchouly', and I am firmly convinced that the secret note must be strawberry or cherry. Relatively synthetic, and it creates a strange mix with the patchouli, which I don't like as much as the opening. Nevertheless, I wanted to positively note the existing scent progression, as well as the incredible longevity and sillage for the price.
Somehow, the scent fits Mozart. He did a fine job!

How often did I wonder as a child and teenager what this delicious-looking Butterbeer from Harry Potter tastes like? Or wished to sit by the fireplace in the cozy 'Three Broomsticks' in winter, with Butterbeer in hand, and later fly home on my broom, a bit tipsy. Unfortunately, I have never made it to Universal Studios/Resort to this day. There, you can buy Butterbeer. But I have brewed what feels like hundreds of recipes at home.
Creamy Vanilla Crumble did not meet my expectations. Luckily! I was expecting a simple, light cake gourmand.
However, the opening made me suspect that I had accidentally grabbed the wrong bottle - in the first second, I smell a coconut-patchouli mix, similar to Velvet Haze. But no more than 15 seconds later, the vanilla is there. Deep, dark, spicy, with a hint of cinnamon, and a load of malt beer. The slight bitterness pairs wonderfully with the sweetness and rounds it off nicely. I truly feel like I have my beloved Butterbeer right under my nose!
The base somewhat reminds me of Tobacco Vanille. The longevity and sillage are also really good. This is a fantastic scent that makes my wizarding heart skip a beat!