On a scorching Saturday afternoon in June, a handful of people slipped into a nondescript downtown L.A. studio with tinted windows, just across the way from Walt Disney Concert Hall. In the lobby, shelves displayed serums, candles and natural deodorants next to black boxes filled with magic mushroom gummies. A greeter ushered attendees into a dark windowless room with yoga mats on the carpeted floor, asking each person: “Would you like some mushroom tea?”
They were there for a yoga class hosted by Personalized Wellbeing, a Los Angeles-based company that provides a range of wellness-based services that support psychedelic experiences. The mushrooms were provided by Psilouette, a brand under the Personalized Wellbeing umbrella with a line of gummies, teas and cacao butter squares containing magic mushrooms. Psilocybin, the active compound in psychedelic mushrooms, remains illegal federally and in the state of California. But in Los Angeles’ growing illicit market, Personalized Wellbeing and Psilouette are notable for their sleek branding and brazenness. Tickets to the mushrooms-enhanced yoga class were offered online for $100 per person, and a publicist for the company invited journalists to cover the event, two of whom were in attendance.
“I thought I was the only person who likes doing drugs while doing yoga, but it’s a thing,” joked Personal Wellbeing founder Derek Chase, who walked around the studio bare-chested with a tumble of blond hair dusting his shoulders. Once everyone was at their mats, staff members began distributing gummies to guests.
The class is part of an occasional series that Personalized Wellbeing offers to the 25,000 people on its email list, according to Chase. Although the class is private, the company sells mushroom gummies and other products on the Psilouette website, and claims to ship worldwide. They’re not alone in the wellness community, as substances like psilocybin and LSD become increasingly mainstream, destigmatized and easier to access, wellness enthusiasts have begun incorporating them into their self-care routines.
“I thought I was the only person who likes doing drugs while doing yoga, but it’s a thing.”
— Derek Chase, founder of Personalized Wellbeing
Personalized Wellbeing’s shroom yoga class is part of a broader trend of psychedelic-enhanced experiences catering to the curious and health-conscious; in Colorado, where psilocybin has been decriminalized at the state level, wellness center 4 Winds Farm offers psychedelic retreats for women. In the 2020 Netflix docu-series “The Goop Lab,” staffers from Gwyneth Paltrow’s wellness company went on a retreat in Jamaica to eat, pray and drink mushroom tea. It’s not uncommon to see the cryptic phrase “gummy optional” when signing up for a sound bath in certain parts of Los Angeles.
“We’re going to start to see [similar] events sprout up because the results are really effective,” said Chase in a phone call before Personalized Wellbeing’s yoga class. “I think people are losing the fear [of psychedelics] and are looking for ways to experience the products.”
But are companies like Personalized Wellbeing putting themselves and their customers at risk by acting as if magic mushrooms are legal? In recent years, California lawmakers’ attempts to legalize psychedelics have repeatedly failed. In August, the FDA also rejected Lykos Therapeutics’ proposal to legalize MDMA-assisted therapy, citing concerns over clinical trial designs. The decision sent shock waves through the psychedelic industry, suggesting substances might not be legalized for the masses as soon as a growing number of companies and investors in the space would like.
Nevertheless, consumer demand for psychedelic experiences remains, and players in an illegal market who were once cautiously discreet are becoming bolder.
Chase, who started Personalized Wellbeing and Psilouette in 2022 after leaving his corporate job at L’Oreal, finds confidence in what he sees as the growing usage of magic mushrooms in Los Angeles.
“The psychedelic community is huge now,” he said. “Everyone is acting like it’s legal. It’s a herd mentality. The more people are doing it, the less repercussions there are.”
Before founding Personalized Wellbeing in Los Angeles, he attempted to start a legal mushroom business in Oregon, where lawmakers legalized psilocybin in 2020 to use at therapeutic centers. But he was soon disheartened by high overhead costs and what he calls government over-regulation. Under this legalization model, he said, “everyone has to turn themselves into a pharma company” to survive. In other words, raise considerable funds and focus on large-scale production.
“It will only be pharma,” agreed Ophelia Chong, a cannabis and psychedelics consultant who saw indie growers and sellers get pushed out of the market when California legalized weed in 2016. “This candy ride of [underground psychedelic products] like gummies, chocolates, lollipops and candy will only last a few more years. Major players are already leading in pharmaceutical funding, as psychedelics are unlikely to become recreational like cannabis.”
In speaking about his company, Chase frequently adopts the tone of an ambitious startup founder. During an interview he suggested that a government-controlled market for legal psychedelics will never work, and that businesses should be allowed to self-regulate, adding that “modern commercial activity is better than government regulation.”
Jules Evans, a Costa Rica-based journalist who covers psychedelic culture and the industry in his newsletter Ecstatic Integration, says it’s increasingly common for illlegal psychedelic companies like Psilouette to operate as if psychedelics are legal and risk-free.
“There isn’t really a psychedelic ‘underground’ anymore,” said Evans. “Everything is overground, not in the sense of legal, but in the sense of visible.”
“There isn’t really a psychedelic ‘underground’ any more. Everything is overground, not in the sense of legal, but in the sense of visible.”
— Jules Evans, author of the psychedelics newsletter Ecstatic Integration
Evans said that while psychedelic companies can appear like legal operations, they often still behave like underground organizations by avoiding transparency and accountability, and shirking ethical and safety standards. In June, the California Department of Public Health issued a warning that a magic mushroom brand Diamond Shruumz had caused people to become ill and hospitalized. An investigation by The Times in August also found that 40% of magic mushroom products sold at smoke shops don’t even contain psilocybin — the main psychoactive compound in psychedelic mushrooms.
The assumption that a company can self-regulate is alarming, according to Dominic Sisti, an associate professor at University of Pennsylvania who researches ethics in the psychedelics industry.
“I would not trust a company to regulate itself,” said Sisti. “It’s a self-serving idea, and we need objective observers in government bodies to make sure that enthusiasts aren’t getting out of their skis too far.”
Sisti notes that people with a history of psychosis or bipolar disorder should be especially careful taking high-dose mushrooms.
“A person could have a bad experience with psilocybin if they’re not ready for it,” he said.
Chase acknowledges the risks that come with the black market. He said he’s read reports of tainted or fake mushroom products that contain synthetic psilocybin substitutes like 4-AcO-DMT, a compound that can be dangerous.
But that’s also one of the reasons he feels his company should advertise so publicly: so consumers can access high-quality products, rather than less reliable goods sometimes found at gas stations and head shops. He says that Psilouette tests the quality of its products through a third-party to ensure high standards of quality. (To support this claim, Chase provided The Times documentation of a third-party lab test order from May 2023 with Oregon-based Flourish Labs that shows the same compounds that are found in magic mushrooms — psilocin, psilocybin, norpsilocin, baeocystin and norbaecystin — are also found in Psilouette’s products. Flourish Labs confirmed the lab ran the test and the veracity of the report.)
In a sense, Chase wants to lead by example to hold magic mushroom sellers to a higher standard.
“I’m no longer afraid of the legal ramifications,” he said. “This work needs to happen and someone needs to do it.”
Meanwhile, at Personalized Wellbeing’s mushroom yoga class, psychologist Bianca Hur, who was leading the session, began by asking individuals about their preferences and levels of experience with psychedelics, in order to determine how much mushrooms each person should take. Several attendees said they’d never done mushrooms before, and were interested in using them as a practice of self-care, as well as letting go of fears of losing control.
Hur said that there has not yet been a situation where an attendee has had an outwardly challenging experience. But if someone were to have a difficult trip, she would take them to a separate area and help them calm down using grounding and breathing exercises.
“That’s why I always have a partner facilitator during psychedelic group sessions, so that [one of us] can give that person special attention for as long as they need,” Hur said.
Once Hur and attendees were in agreement about dosage, several helpers entered the room, one of them announcing “the dose fairies are coming!” as they distributed bulbous glasses of an earthy tea.
One participant sitting cross-legged on her mat said that she’d previously had negative experiences with mushrooms. “I’m the queen of having a bad time,” she said. Hur advised her to opt for lower-dose gummies.
After those who wanted to participate in the psychedelic portion of the class were dosed, participants sat down in a circle, sharing their intentions before moving to their yoga mats and beginning to stretch.
“Let go of judgment, this is about feeling and releasing,” said Hur, as she led the class on a visualization exercise on each part of their bodies’ chakras. Classical flute and Spanish guitar blared from a single Bluetooth speaker as a sound healer played crystal bowls. The mirrors lining the walls of the room fogged up as bodies moved to the rhythm. Some participants closed their eyes, raised their hands in the air, and breathed heavily as the bass-heavy dubstep swelled.
“It’s so hot in here,” one participant said. “But the mushrooms are making me feel like the heat is hilarious.”
Later, participants were invited to move, moan and laugh as they wished.
“It is safe to be in my feelings,” people chanted in unison after Hur, placing their hands on their chests.
After the class, the participants huddled in circles, radiant in sweat. Their faces were flushed, their eyes glazed.
“Did anyone else get visuals? I was seeing crystalline tendrils dripping from the ceiling,” said one participant.
“I saw myself zip open my body and emerge into a ball of light,” said another woman.
But it wasn’t for everyone: A real estate attorney who said he had not done mushrooms in a decade prior left the room halfway through because he was craving fresh air and closer proximity to nature.
“Was it the most profound yoga class ever? No,” said his sister, who had occupied the neighboring mat. “But it was a nice experience.”