Fugazzi built Cloudh Nine around a specific dare: what if oud felt weightless instead of heavy? Bram Niessink’s Amsterdam house sent it to Sephora in March 2026, an eau de parfum with Petalia and Mahonial florals up top, tonka bean and fluffy musks in the middle, and Akigalawood, Georgywood and guaiac wood standing in for a soft, airy version of oud underneath.
This is my second Fugazzi. I’d been circling the brand’s tiered discount, one bottle gets fifteen percent off, two gets twenty, three gets thirty, while doing what I told myself was Christmas shopping for my niece through my mother. Angel Dust was already on my list. Someone else in the family picked up Vanilla Ace. That put us at twenty percent, and I still had a slot open.
Try Parfumado. Test new fragrances every month, no blind buys required.
I’d been leaning airier and muskier lately, Angel Dust, L’Eau Papier, that register. Cloudh Nine caught me for a different reason: that Akigalawood base, and actual florals in the top notes, which I own almost none of. Ninety-three euros after the discount is still a real number for a blind buy, but the reviews from people with tastes close to mine tipped it.
On the Skin
Akigalawood announces itself first, that woody base is unmistakable from the opening, but the florals are right there with it, not trailing behind. It’s an airy fragrance. It doesn’t project loudly, doesn’t try to fill a room, just sits close and does its thing. Give it long enough on my skin and I go nose-blind to it, which I’d chalk up to how many molecular components are doing the work here, Akigalawood especially. Step away and come back, though, and it’s immediately there again, just as present as when I sprayed it.
The florals and the wood pull in opposite directions in an interesting way. The florals lean slightly feminine, the wood leans slightly masculine, and neither one wins. That’s the whole appeal. It reads genuinely unisex rather than unisex as a marketing line.
Performance
It doesn’t shout, but it doesn’t fade either. Longevity is real even though my own nose stops registering it after a while, that’s an adaptation thing, not the fragrance actually thinning out. Anyone standing near me would tell you it’s still there. Close wear, not a room-filler, and I’ve made my peace with that trade.
The Verdict
This is a fragrance for the in-between days. Early spring, fall, the kind of winter day that isn’t actually cold. It also works on summer evenings, which surprised me. My own fit model called this one a five out of ten before I bought it, wrong on both the floral lead and the synthetic wood base. I scored it an eight once I actually wore it. It filled a real gap in my collection, florals I didn’t have, on a base I already knew I liked, and it did that better than my own prediction gave it credit for.
