Egoiste by Chanel

I don’t know why I didn’t try it sooner; they say it’s the father of Allure Homme. Spices, resins, woods, musk, and a touch of sweetness. Ebony wood, cinnamon, tobacco, vanilla, leather, clove, rose, and pepper. Chanel Egoïste is an elegant, mature classic for adult men. It has good quality and, unlike the Antaeus version, I believe it maintained its oil concentration; it feels dense from the start. It doesn’t evolve much; it’s the same scent from beginning to end. It’s worth it, but test before buying. It’s not Chanel’s best, but it’s in the top 5. Average performance, lasting about 3 hours on skin and paper before settling into a personal aura. I can imagine walking through a classic Spanish hotel at night with this, rustic yet refined. I think it should be an EDP; the essence is listed third in the ingredients, so I estimate it has around 12% oil. Very masculine at first, then it leans towards unisex without actually being so.

At first, it smells of alcohol—I bought it blindly—but the evolution is brutal. You move from alcohol to sweetness, and the dry-down is the best part: incredible longevity. The next day in the shower, I finally understood the name; it’s a classic.

It smells of varnish to me, and the dry-down seems quite disgusting, like excrement.

Chanel Egoïste is not a perfume; it’s a dark whisper that unfolds on the skin like a forbidden secret. A citrus and sweet mandarin opening that seems innocent, but soon reveals its intention. The patchouli emerges warm and enveloping, embraced by the cinnamon that burns delicately, while freshly cut woods whisper their rawness. The fragrance never stops: a fragile yet unsettling rose appears, wrapped in leather and faded flowers under a decadent twilight. Each note blends and darkens to prepare the Moroccan musk: a seductive, sticky, and addictive animal scent that clings to the skin, leaving a trail of desire. The amber base, warm and intoxicating, prolongs this obsession. Egoïste is not just worn; it’s lived and remembered. It stays on the skin like an extinguished cigarette mixed with the intimacy of damp skin: a dark, damp, and close vestige that provokes and is never forgotten. Wearing it is like walking down a shadowy corridor at night: sensual, provocative, and impossible to ignore. Every hour is a silent pact between the skin and the fragrance. Congratulations, master.

I always say that perfume is your personality in its purest form, and this one confirms it 100%. At first, you just notice spices and orange, so strong they hit you straight in the nose. Then the red flowers, wood, and cinnamon emerge. It’s a unique scent that makes everyone take notice of you with that huge trail. If you wear it with the right mood, it’s super versatile and I’ve received an absolute load of compliments. The projection and lasting power of around 8 hours are top-notch.

This is my favourite perfume. I love that talc-like tone wrapped in initial citrus, a sensual sweetness, a sharp cinnamon, and an olive note that is the cherry on the cake. It feels classic, elegant, and present, without being old-fashioned or too serious. Unlike Antaeus or Pour Monsieur, this gem is more youthful, for a young adult, ideal for the 30s or perhaps from the 25s if you have an irreverent yet elegant attitude. If I had to choose a historical figure, it would be Alexander the Great: that aura of youthful authority, unrestrained and bold, ready to conquer. Unfortunately, as I’ve read, the reformulation has reduced its potency. Nevertheless, it’s very pleasant and unique. The vintage world of fragrances, full of eternal masterpieces, reflects an era where brands weren’t afraid to take risks, contrasting with current trends. I tested it an hour ago and then the 212 VIP Black by CH. What a contrast. It all comes down to taste, but nowadays you can smell 100 perfumes similar to the VIP, but at most a handful will be as original and standout as Egoïste.

This perfume is brilliant, and if you already know that, there’s no need to keep reading. They say every nose is a world; I’d add that the meaning we attach to perfuming ourselves varies hugely between people. I love scents, and since I was a teenager, for me, perfuming was a ritual of personal enjoyment; although when I started getting interested in love, I dreamed that someone with whom I had intimacy would identify certain aromas with me. But that’s one thing, and fantasising about a perfume having the effect of the Pied Piper attracting women is another level of delirium. Why am I writing this? Because obsessing over whether a perfume floods the room, whether it’s ‘in fashion’, or whether I subjectively think it will make someone go sexually crazy seems trivial. I won’t describe the virtues of Egoïste here; many experts will do that better. Deep down, you know you don’t need to read anyone to, if you haven’t already, try Egoïste a couple of times, enjoy it, and broaden your olfactory culture. You’ll decide if you fancy smelling like that or not. Finally, a point to be more honest with yourselves and critical of certain reviewers: in all my life, I have never heard a woman say or even hint that she gave a kiss to anyone because of their perfume. Complimenting someone because you like their perfume doesn’t mean that person will like you. It doesn’t work like that, and you know it. Stop looking for the holy grail to attract people because it doesn’t exist. Choose what you like, embody your personality, get comfortable using it, it will give you pleasure and confidence, and you’ll feel a bit happier. Perhaps that extra happiness you radiate will make you even more likable to your loved ones. Best wishes.

I’ve just immersed myself in this world of perfumes and reviews. There are experts who have already said everything, but I have something to add: imagine going to a business meeting where you’re playing for keeps. You need to show that you’re there, firm and convinced 100%, without letting yourself be swept away: EGOISTE must go with you. AUTHORITY WITH IMPACT.

Guys, short version. If they launched this in 2025, they’d put it in a JPG bottle, call it ‘JPG Egoïste’, give it to some 19 to 24-year-old influencers, and it would be top sales for seven years in a row; they’d see how girls of that age start liking it. It can give a vintage aroma, like dressing in the old money style (a trend that’s strong). Fashion, scents, haircuts, etc., are cyclical. This fragrance is timeless, unique, complex (in a good way), and irrepeatable. If it were relaunched with the right marketing, it wouldn’t have a single dislike. Slightly sweet, spiced, sophisticated… Smell of old people? You don’t understand anything.

Égoïste: Opening: A strong hit of coriander and cedar with a slight touch of sweet citrus. Heart: The opening softens, giving way to a spiced cinnamon and a timid rose note. Dry Down: Above all, the cinnamon stands out (creamy and woody thanks to the sandalwood), and the rose, which intertwines with a base of tobacco and vanilla. Projection and Longevity: Projects for about 4-5 hours and lasts between 10 and 12 hours. Conclusion: Spiced, woody, floral, and slightly sweet. It is a fragrance whose opening is alarming if you haven’t tried it before (it can seem aggressive at first), as its cedar and coriander opening is rough and hard. However, it mellows after 10-15 minutes to give way to the cinnamon and rose, which blend into sandalwood, tobacco, and vanilla. Although the final dry down is intoxicating and sweet, I don’t see problems in using it in summer (perhaps better at night). This singular and delicious fragrance didn’t have much success in the US; in fact, it was despised, so Chanel launched Égoïste Platinum (a green fragrance that shares base notes with its older sister), much more adapted to American tastes. In my opinion, this is the best male fragrance from Chanel alongside Bleu EDT, so I recommend buying it. Although its scent may not be for newcomers to the world of perfumes, it is a solid and elegant option for those seeking niche quality at a reasonable price.

The best of Chanel. Full stop. I even like it more than Antaeus.

You probably think so because of the effervescent opening and the aldehydes. Egoïste has a strange opening: aromatic due to the coriander, aldehydic and slightly citrusy. They say Croxatto Man is more similar to the original Agua Brava by Puig. I don’t know it, but the similarity must be around there. I assume that a large part of noses are young and have broad or unrefined concepts. @svazquez7, greetings friend. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I support your point. Antaeus is a great perfume, one of the best cypresses today. It’s a common DNA in cypresses; old formulas from Polo, Bel Ami, Quorum and Pour Lui have great similarity. I struggle to think of a contemporary perfume to Egoïste that is so similar. Moreover, it’s one of the things closest to a work of art in perfumery. Blessings.

A timeless masterpiece! Among my favourites out of about 90 perfumes, Egoïste is among the top three. Amen.

The comments are a bit of a mess, each responsible for their own. It looks bad for anyone using adjectives like ‘dirty bohemian type’ or ‘old man’, or emojis instead of words. What baffles me is that, at 229 versus 94, Egoïste reminds them of Andrés Croxatto Man. They aren’t similar, or at least they don’t seem so to me. It would be good if some reviewer argued this. I make the request without any intention to contradict, just to understand. Thanks.

Anyone who buys Egoïste doesn’t do so by mistake looking for something fresh. No young member of the public would buy it by mistake: they aren’t interested, perfumery doesn’t recommend it, they fall head over heels for Bleu or Allure HS before knowing the king, or it doesn’t appear on compliment lists. Egoïste is like Santa Muerte. You don’t look for her, she looks for you. If she comes into your life, it’s not by chance. It’s not just for personal enjoyment nor repulsive. One can use 15 sprays of Kouros in summer and if you have the balls to pull it off, it works the same. If you’re a street type who wears it, they’ll send you to hell. But if you’re a mature guy, well-dressed, with self-love and you wear it, you’ll knock any woman up with a snap. It’s not dirty either. And even if it were, what’s wrong with that? Humanity has only recently repudiated smells of dirt. When I smell my armpit and say ‘how disgusting’, then I think ‘it’s more disgusting that you think that’s disgusting’. I also think ‘you’d be a disgrace to mother France’. If it was common, body odour, animalic musks, rancid leathers, car oil, grease… what happened to us that we rejected our nature? There are no dirty things. Nor are there repulsive ones. It depends on the wearer. If you expect compliments for Egoïste, you’re screwed. But if you let Egoïste invade you and turn you into an EGOIST, you don’t care about showering, you wear vintage suits, Cuban chains with hair on your chest and put women in their place, Egoïste will give you what you ask for. I generate this with respect. If you’re going to use only modern fragrances and have hard stigmas towards classic perfumery due to incomprehension, your comment isn’t valid here. Good art sometimes takes time to understand. I say this from the bottom of my heart. Blessings.