Gender Bender: Aramis 900 (1973)

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by: Dr. Marlen Elliot Harrison

This is another in a series of fragrance reviews that asks, “How does fragrance transcend gender?” Leave a comment below for your chance to receive a sample, shipped anywhere in the world, free!

Hello and welcome to my new column here at Fragrantica: “Gender Bender”, an exploration of aroma, gender and scented freedom. Though by no means do I personally prescribe to fragrance having a gender, sociocultural stereotypes about masculinity and femininity often prevail at the fragrance counters. Join me as I explore some of my favorite 20th century masterpieces of perfumery in my quest to address the familiar question, “How does fragrance transcend gender?”

Summary: The “herbal” version of the original Aramis is a masculine floral (rose and carnation) in keeping with Chant’s other 1960s/1970s creations for Lauder in that it is almost a dead ringer for his similarly green and mossy Aromatics Elixir, minus the creamy chamomile and tuberose accents. Now reformulated and repackaged, Aramis 900 can be found at reasonable prices with only minor compromise in longevity and quality.

Perfumer: Bernard Chant

Try this if you like: Dry, mossy, patchouli-focused fragrances without a hint of sweet, fresh or fruity—think Caron’s Yatagan or original Cabochard. Accents of carnation, rose, geranium and vetiver.

Pros & Cons: A masculine floral in keeping with the time of its creation, Aramis 900is an alien from another planet alongside today’s aquatics, gourmands, and airy synthetics. Adventurous men curious about and keen on aromas of the past will find Aramis 900 to be a familiar aroma, not all that distant from many of the 80s powerhouse scents like Tiffany for Men or Giorgio of Beverly Hills for Men minus the vanillic-ambery basenotes. However, for women looking for an Aromatics Elixir substitute or relative at an affordable price, the current Aramis 900 might fit the bill; think of it is as a less complex, lighter version of Elixir. And the drydown is both heavenly and addictive.

Notes: Top notes are coriander, green notes, bergamot, brazilian rosewood and lemon; middle notes are carnation, orris root, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, rose and geranium; base notes are sandalwood, amber, patchouli, civet, oakmoss and vetiver.

Reminds me of: Clinique Aromatics Elixir, Bois 1920 Come La Luna, Sisley Eau de Soir, Genny by Genny, Azzaro Acteur, Fendi by Fendi (original), Givenchy Insense,Cabochard, Givenchy Gentleman (original).

Designer’s Description: N/A

Number of times tested: Five+ over the last four weeks.

Number of sprays applied for this review: One spray to the back of hand from a bottle I purchased online at a discount site (ca. 2015).

Fragrance strength: Eau de Cologne

Development: (Linear / Average / Complex): Aramis 900 opens richly with emphatic moss, rosewood, coriander and patchouli, and dries smoothly with the florals peeking out during the opening and middle stages. It is in the drydown around the second hour that I most keenly perceive hints of Givenchy’s magical Insense (but that’s not to suggest they are identical).

Longevity: (Short / Average / Long-lasting) From only one spray I got a good six-eight hours out of this one.

Sillage: (A Little / Average / A Lot) The current (2015) formulation opens with a bang; avoid close spaces immediately following application. Within two hours, Aramis 900 settles into an addictive skinscent that keeps on emitting wafts of floral-chypre goodness, albeit more subtly.

Note about the packaging: The current bottle is a standard glass atomizer with silver cap and sticker label, now common to the entire men’s collection of Aramis scents (e.g. Tuscany, JHL, Devin, etc). The bottle is housed in a black paper box with matching label.

Where can I buy it? Found online for as little as $25 USD for a 100 ml tester.

The Bottom Line: Having become a fragrance fanatic at the end of the 80s, Aramis and its flankers were already “old-fashioned” to my developing nose; I had been growing accustomed to more contemporary fruity (Claiborne for Men), oriental (Perry Ellis for Men) and aquatic (Eternity for Men) aromas. I was raised primarily in south Florida around an older population for whom Aramis still represented American luxury, and who also enjoyed dousing themselves with a heavy hand in tropical heat. I remember being trapped in a small vehicle with someone’s grandfather who had both refused to turn on the car’s air conditioning and had likely just bathed in half a bottle of Aramis in lieu of deodorant. The “stench” became a metaphor for “old man smell.” How many of use have similar experiences around fragrances like Chanel No. 5, L’Air du Temps or Old Spice?

While working in fragrance throughout the mid-1990s, I became re-acquainted with the Aramis line and firmly decided that they just weren’t to my liking. I wanted new, groundbreaking, niche and these were anything but. However, now that I am in my 40s and moving through a stage of reminiscence and nostalgia, and not really remembering Aramis 900 as keenly as the original, I figured it was time to re-visit the work of perfumer Bernard Chant, the genius behind fragrances such as Cabochard and Estée. Moreover, the reviews for this one are pretty positive and after luck with the rosy classic Acteur, I was curious to see what other retro, masculine roses were like. To my surprise, I was indeed reminded of Aromatics Elixir, a fragrance that more than a few mothers and grandmothers of childhood acquaintances regularly wore.

Perfumer Bernard Chant

A few of Lauder’s “female” fragrances have their “male” sniffalike counterparts. For example, the oriental JHL reminds me of Cinnabar and Youth Dew. And so Aramis 900 makes for an excellent gender bender subject because of how closely it resembles Chant’s “women’s” creation for 1970s Clinique (a Lauder company). It could be said that women’s fragrance paradigms of the mid-60s to the mid-80s—with their use of animalics, herbs, roots and resins—lean decidedly towards the current ideas of “masculine”; it is rare these days for a sharp, green, chypre composition to find success at the women’s counter (e.g., David Yurman).

I don’t really detect the rose here as strongly as I do in Acteur, nor do I find the carnation as rich as I do in scents like Guerlain’s Derby. 900 seems to be all about pungent greens of the sage and olive variety; nothing sparkling, dewy or fresh here. I do perceive the rosewood, but without the sharp or meaty edges that often accompany the note. I detect the patchouli but without the scratchy earthiness. And I do notice the citrusy coriander and geranium. Behind all of these facets are the mossy, animalic basenotes, and an almost smoky bitterness. I’m intrigued but I’m not sure how often I’ll reach for this. For the price, and its similarity to some of the 20th century’s women’s classics, I’d wholeheartedly recommend at least a sniff to discerning noses.

Image of Bernard Chant: Clinique Mag