Spiritica was founded in Milan in 2023 by Italian visionary Daniele Muratori Caputo, known in the fragrance community as NasoDani. A lifelong fragrance enthusiast, Daniele created the brand to explore scent as a medium for personal storytelling and spiritual expression.
Contains 2ml of seven fragrances: Atmayatra, Suscepto, Weon, Leonarda, Mangomacumba, Yuzuyakuza, & Lynch.
This collection is deeply spiritual and personal — each fragrance is inspired by a real place on Earth that founder Daniele Muratori Caputo experienced in a mystical way. The perfumes are designed to evoke paranormal energy and spiritual awakening, with coordinates of those meaningful sites printed on the packaging.
Where the Ganges is born among Himalayan peaks, the air turns sharp with basil, mint, and cardamom carried on glacial winds. Smoke rises in coils of benzoin, frankincense, and cannabis. Beneath, the wet earth murmurs: mud and patchouli, sandalwood softened by honey and vanilla. It is said that Babaji still walks these valleys, keeper of immortality and Vedic secrets. Atmayatra is pilgrimage on the skin: smoky, meditative, elemental.
An ode to quiet devotion. Ozone and sea breeze swirl with peppermint, eucalyptus, and citrus atop an Aegean cliff. Incense smoke curls upward, carrying rose, metal, and whispered prayer. Miracles are performed here. Wax and honeyed wood glow in the candlelight of the monastery. Intimate, sacred, and illuminating.
As the sun sets in Rio, the Tijuca rainforest begins to stir. Sticky, sun-ripened mango bursts open, spiked with lime, pineapple, papaya, and a cooling streak of mint and ozonic air. The ground throbs to the drumbeat as dusk deepens into night. Guava and tiare are stained with the perilous metallic charge of sacred offerings. Faster and louder, the night surges with chants, heat, and flame. Red earth trembles beneath bare feet, the air thick with smoke and sweat curling up into ebony shadows. At last, a lactonic veil settles: milk and white musk breathing a final benediction. Mangomacumba ends when sacrifice becomes offering – raw, carnal, transcendent.
In a shuttered alley of neon-lit Shinjuku, a blade of cold air slices through the night, sharp with yuzu rind, shiso leaf, and peppered ginger. Electric citrus crackles like fluorescent tubes about to burst. Beneath the brightness, shadows shift—ink-dark tea, vetiver, and lacquered wood whisper of old debts and older loyalties. Tobacco smolders in back rooms where silent men play dangerous games, the smoke bruised with saffron and gunmetal. A final note—clean rice steam, soft but unforgiving—settles over everything, the calm after a decisive strike.
A rope swings gently in the dry prairie heat, creaking against a sky bleached of mercy. Hot wind carries dust, sunburnt hay, and the ghost of whiskey evaporating from abandoned saloons. Then comes the sweetness—overripe pear collapsing into brown sugar and tarnished silver, an innocence smothered under the weight of judgement. Leather scorches; cedarwood cracks in the sun; a curl of black pepper drifts like a warning. Underfoot, the earth exhales something colder: iron, smoke, and the hollow echo of old crimes.
Homemade soap and blood orange fizz with caustic brightness, sterile yet edged with menace. Delicate sweetness follows – warm biscuits, Chantilly cream, and raspberry syrup melt on the tongue before the metallic lacings of blood filter through the dough. Domestic duty clumsily masks violence. Beneath, oud smolders with sulfur’s acrid bite, dark chocolate bitter as guilt, ambergris lending an unsettling depth. The facade collapses, revealing her crimes, grotesque and deranged.
The fridge hums in the dark, its stale breath mixing with chemical cleaner and syrupy cherry soda. Neon-green nostalgia flickers—plastic toys, condensed milk sweetness, a carnival spinning long after midnight. But something ferments beneath the innocence: rotten peach, acetone, and the faint static buzz of a television left on an empty channel. A metallic heartbeat pulses through it all, thudding with freezer frost and cold steel. Vanilla curdles; cacao turns grim; musk blooms where it shouldn’t. The apartment grows smaller, the walls listening.
From the beginning, Daniele envisioned Spiritica as a dialogue between tradition and modernity. His perfumes draw inspiration from historical uses of scent – incense, resins, and botanicals – while employing contemporary perfumery techniques and materials. His compositions balance natural ingredients with innovative synthetics, upholding a cruelty-free ethos that excludes animal-derived materials.
The ILLUMINATA Collection is inspired by spiritually charged places and moments, with each scent linked to a specific the location. In contrast, the CRIME Collection delves into darker narratives. Its debut fragrance, Leonarda (2024), is named after Leonarda Cianciulli, the infamous “Soap-Maker of Correggio.” Developed in collaboration with perfumer Paolo Cerizza, it juxtaposes unsettling references with rich accords.
The brand’s visual identity mirrors Daniele’s fascination with symbolism and design. Packaging incorporates references to geometry, spirituality, and cultural heritage, reinforcing the deeper themes behind each scent. As an independent founder, Daniele personally oversees every stage of the creative process – from concept to production. Spiritica produces in limited batches, ensuring close attention to detail and craftsmanship.
