Égoïste Chanel 1990 Eau de Toilette

Chanel Égoïste is a fragrance that is really special, it really doesn't smell anything like 80-90% of male designer fragrances out there. I believe that if this were released today it would be considered niche, and cost perhaps up to twice as much as what it does. I would go as far as to say that this is a masterpiece of male perfumery, probably the most confidant, mature and elegant masculine release of the last generation, and one of the greatest perfumes for men of any time, whether considered niche or designer.

Égoïste is the embodiment of a confidant, masculine, spicy oriental, and Chanel perfumer Jacques Polge (who has done every Chanel perfume since 1981) has called this his proudest work. I can see why. This fragrance doesn't remind you of anything else advertised for men out there. It's the complete opposite of the generic, sterile-clean aquatic releases which have almost saturated the designer market today. It is rich, deep, elegant, strong, confidant. It makes a statement of quiet confidence and assured masculinity. It's really for the man who is strong and assured yet who is loved by all. The strong man with a kind personality, I would call it.

The story goes that this was a fragrance meant for the Chanel CEO at the time, as a private scent for him. Later, they released it to the public. It didn't sell, because the majority of people like to buy fragrances which remind them of other fragrances (just look at the aquatic craze of the last 20 years). Chanel Égoïste smelt nothing like anything else at the time. Nevertheless it survived, and even today still has the same effect.

Jacques Polge based the composition on Chanel's "Bois des Iles", a heavy sandalwood-based fragrance released 5 years after the famous No. 5. Égoïste is also centred around creamy sandalwood, which is surrounded by spices: Cloves, Cinnamon, Coriander. It also has a beautiful rosewood note which is joined by real, natural smelling Rose, and sharp Carnation in the middle (this is what some have called the "dated" aspect of the fragrance); before finally drying down to a wonderfully warm and creamy Vanilla-Amber-Sandalwood base. I find it very similar to Coco, which he made for women 6 years previously, except a lot more woodier, spicier, and overall more masculine.

It's absolutely beautiful, but very hard to appreciate because it doesn't smell like many of today's popular releases, and for many people, this will either be love or hate. It's warm, bold, spicy... and it takes confidence to wear. If I had to compare it to anything, it would probably be Frederic Malle's "Musc Ravageur" which is a deep, spicy and sensual fragrance but marketed as niche.

Chanel Égoïste might not be for everyone, it takes an amount of confidence and maturity to pull it off (it would also work very well on a woman I think), but it really is a special journey... and a complex one at that. I have a real feeling that 70-80% of people will love this (women especially on a man). It's warm and inviting, but also confidant and relaxed at the same time. Like stroking the warm, beautiful fur of an exotic, tame pet tiger...

I hope that Jacques Polge's proudest creation stands as a testament to all that is possible with male marketed perfume, and show that not all male fragrances have to smell the same or conform to the same standard set by others. I hope that this classic will always be there as a reminder that men can wear something created for them which is just as complex and beautiful as anything made for women; and to also prove that men can give off an aura of being strong, confidant, warm and gentle simultaneously. Nothing more can be said of Égoïste. Well done!

A nice woody-fruity fragrance will be at least somewhat attractive to 75% of those who smell it. It is undemanding and hits the right buttons. It’s like a blooming flower in this respect. Who actively dislikes jasmine or rose? Egoiste uses this moderate prettiness to gear up to striking beauty.

Egoiste is a pseudo-oriental that beat the Lutens ‘new oriental’ Feminite du Bois to the fruity/cedary punch, but replaced restraint with largesse. Where you might admire FdB with a “well done” you just want to ooch Egoiste’s cheeks squealing “you are TOO cute!” FdB has a growing harmony that is a function of its radiance. Egoiste is a big diva-like melody with built-in backup singers.

Egoiste composes an accord that hits all the right tones we love about sandlewood---vanillic, creamy, fruity-sweet, at once rounded and sharp. I find the actual woodiness, though, to be a cedar, rosewood and musk blend of perfect pitch paired with vanilla and who knows what else. I think Egoiste has survived since the 1980s fully intact, despite the sandlewood drought, because it emulates sandlewood the way Guerlain’s Nahema calls to mind a rose: by employing a superb chemical geometry to create an olfactory allusion. The herbal touch completes the picture and creates a medicinal tone that keeps the sweet creaminess from crossing the line to toothaching.

Egoiste makes me wonder (other than exceptions such as Dior Homme and Guerlains’s Heritage) why designer men’s fragrances don’t strive for beauty instead of tolerating the low expectation of skimpy, vernacular handsomeness as a goal.

My husband came to me the one day in summer of 2015 and told me that he'd seen Burberry Touch for Men for 20 euros at a local pharmacy (Montenegro at the time) and was thinking of getting it. I held my hand up in the universal sign language of 'Lemme Stop You There', remembering the last time he bought perfume on his own (Dior Sauvage, oh the horror, the HORROR), and glumly handed him over a big bottle of Egoiste. 'You wear men's perfumes?' he asked me, confused. Yes, husband. Yes, I do. When perfumes are as good as Egoiste, women will purloin them and claim them as their own. He was even unaware of my Dior Homme Intense habit back then, another bottle that become his, and then in time, our son's.

Egoiste opens with a tight little nubbin of spice, its mandarin orange oil, cinnamon, rose, and lemon notes swirling together to form an effervescent coca-cola accord that never fails to lift the spirits. Sometimes the rose becomes very big, sometimes I barely notice it, as I think it knits itself into the smooth rosewood and tobacco very cleverly. The new version is definitely weaker and thinner than how I remember it smelling in the late 1990's, when I recall it being a big hit with several boyfriends. To my nose, the tobacco has been amped up, and it is the crumbling, dusty sort that can smell a little like earth and dried leaves - similar to the tobacco note in Journey Man.

Thank God, though, that the sandalwood in the drydown is still the rich, sweet, spicy gingerbread sandalwood that I love so much in Bois des Iles and Mona di Orio Vanille. Before I moved from Montenegro to Ireland in 2015, I sent all my perfumes on ahead of me (strapped to donkeys, over the Alps), and I found I missed my sandalwoods the most. My Egoiste is therefore a bottle I bought in Montenegro a week before I left, procured solely to give me comfort during that tumultuous time of my life, and I clung to it despite the sweltering 40 degree heat. Longevity is ok - about 4 hours and definitely not as strong or as rich as the older versions. It's perfect for men AND WOMEN who love big, spicy woods perfumes with a coca cola twang and a creamy drydown. For me, it's pure cold weather comfort in a bottle.

Oh, how delicious! Egoiste you are divine. Why this fragrance is not sold in Australian stores is something I am still questioning.

At first spray, I could have sworn I smelt raisin toast smothered in butter and jam. Egoiste opened rather gourmand-like, spicy and sweet. The raisin bread smell stuck around for awhile, however the spices became much more prominent and bold.

Egoiste has quite a mesmerizing spiced fruit smell, further highlighted by a rich, Bulgarian rose note. On my skin this fragrance doesn't smell masculine at all, in fact it could pass as a feminine fragrance quite easily. Its somewhat fascinating sugary-ness is really captivating on my skin and I can see myself wearing this alot during Winter and Autumn.

I find this fragrance quite sexy and wild. I like that no inhibitions, 'take me as I am' attitude that this fragrance so cleverly conveys. Egoiste has this beautiful warmth created by the spices, (in particular the cinnamon), counteracting with the rose, vanilla and dried fruits.

The sillage and lasting power are the final touches which seal the deal on this outstanding fragrance. Chanel's masculine offerings, are in one word, masterpieces.

My Dad uses Platinum Egoiste, ( might even be his signature scent ) and it smells really nice, keeping that in mind I decided to blind buy this fragrance. All I can say is that for a fragrance released in 1990, it really impressed me.

As I sprayed this on me, I instantly realized that this fragrance is vaguely familiar, I might have smelled this somewhere on someone, can't put my finger on it, but the smell then was more bitter, sharp and rough.

The Egoiste in question here is a much more toned down, heavily reformulated, sweeter version of what once was a much more sharper scent.

Chanel's Egoiste was the brainwave of Jacques Polge who was the head perfumer at the House of Chanel, the story goes like this.

Polge was researching Chanel's archives to design a perfume and came across the formula used by Ernest Beaux
( creator of Chanel no. 5 ), which utilized a high content of Sandalwood, and hence ended up inventing Bois Noir which was a completely new diversion from the fougere fragrances Chanel was used to launching. This diversion was however short lived and disappeared a year after its launch.

In 1990, Polge decided to renovate Bois Noir and launched Egoiste to a much wider and accepting audience. The fragrance was an instant hit in Europe, however, it was a major let down in the United States, and was later revamped and sold as Platinum Egoiste.

Polge still names this as his best work at Chanel, after years of churning out one hit after another. Mentioned below is the review:

Bottle design ( 6.5 / 10 ) - The bottle is toned down and simplistic at best, with a sleek black top, having the Chanel logo engraved on it. The transparent rectangular bottle with the intense Chanel name doesn't do much to imprint an image on our creative side.

Scent ( 8.5 / 10 ) - This is a spicy/woody/oriental scent, there is no denying it. It opens with a burst of mandarin and Damask rose on me, and I really admire the ingenious mix of the two elements, especially the Rose.

Damask rose really reminds me of its more common variants such as rose oil and rose essence, but Polge brilliantly keeps the delicate balance alive through the spicy element of Cinnamon, which has a sneaking presence in the scent.

Besides Damask rose the other prevalent element is definitely Sandalwood, in its most purest form, at once recalling Polge's homage to Ernest Beaux.

Sandalwood in this fragrance is the most enduring element, sort of like the patriarch of other notes according to me, followed by the Damask rose.

As per fragrance websites, there is also the presence of vanilla and ambrette seeds, which gives it a more gourmand edge, however, my nose cannot sniff that.

Earlier versions also had Tobacco, however Chanel's official website no longer includes it in its list of notes.

The Rose/Sandalwood mix ultimately lends this fragrance its oriental touch. All in all the scent is much more sweet than what I remember.

Longevity ( 8 / 10 ) - The perfume lasts on my skin for a good 6+ hours, however after the 2-3 hour point, it lingers more closely to the skin, maybe it is due to the heavy reformulation the perfume was subjected to years after its release. Overall the performance is strictly good.

In summary, the fragrance still retains some of its old style sophistication and a mature man's conservativeness, without being an olfactory hazard. But when all is said and done, I can't help but say, the way B.B. King summed it up, " Baby the thrill is gone".

Overall : 76% ( B )