Aramis by Aramis
Men 1966
Description
Aramis by Aramis is a woody-chypre fragrance for men. Launched in 1966, the nose behind this composition is Bernard Chant. The top notes are aldehydes, myrrh, absinthe, thyme, white clover, bergamot, and gardenia; the heart notes are patchouli, sage, jasmine, cardamom, and lily root; the base notes are leather, oakmoss, musk, vetiver, sandalwood, amber, and coconut.
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The olfactory pyramid
A guide to the opening, heart and lasting trail of the fragrance.
The community speaks
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In the collection
Leading answer I own it
10,872 votes
What do you think?
Leading answer Love it
4,313 votes
Season
Choose severalLeading answer Autumn
4,658 votes
Time of day
Choose severalLeading answer Day
2,679 votes
Each question has its own vote count. You can choose several seasons.
Fragrance profile
About Aramis
Aramis by Aramis is a woody-chypre fragrance for men. Launched in 1966, the nose behind this composition is Bernard Chant. The top notes are aldehydes, myrrh, absinthe, thyme, white clover, bergamot, and gardenia; the heart notes are patchouli, sage, jasmine, cardamom, and lily root; the base notes are leather, oakmoss, musk, vetiver, sandalwood, amber, and coconut.
Resins and balsams Green, herbal and fougère Flowers White flowers Woods and mosses Spices Musk, amber and animalic Fruits, vegetables and nuts
It may remind you of
Ranked by what the community voted.
More from Aramis
More from Bernard Chant
How it wears
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Longevity
Leading answer Long-lasting
2,193 votes
Sillage
Leading answer Strong
2,352 votes
Character
Leading answer Traditionally masculine
1,436 votes
Value perception
Leading answer Excellent value
1,327 votes
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Community reviews
40 reviews
Share what you noticed: opening, drydown, sillage and the moments when it works for you.
Forget the reformulations everyone keeps talking about; let’s talk about the bottle I have. About 7 years ago, my father-in-law came to town and as he got out of his truck, he let off a powerful blast that I didn’t like at first, but it was a scent I had never smelled before (Aramis). Over time, in a casual conversation, he told me it was his fragrance since his youth, so out of curiosity, I bought my own. Although I used it, I couldn’t find the right moment and put it away for almost a year and a half; the scent didn’t improve, but now that I’m using it again, it gives me a sense of peace and abundance that’s hard to explain. We all want to smell good, project well, and get compliments, but the feeling this fragrance gives me is far superior to everything else. The best part is that it comes in large sizes (120 and 200 ml), so it lasts a long time, and it’s very affordable.
Very good perfume.
The ‘absurd’ comparisons many make between famous, expensive fragrances from my adolescence led me to investigate them like an archaeological dig. It’s a losing battle from the start, considering how much they’ve been reformulated since their original versions. However, I want to share: ARAMIS ARAMIS is a fragrance that I didn’t love at the time, but it didn’t disgust me. I met it at age 15; some friends used it, knew each other, and we hung out in the same circles, school, etc. I always assumed they were those kids whose moms, aunts, and grandmas bought everything from socks to perfume; well, the ones who wore cologne because many, even if they had money, didn’t use it, and if they did, they used their parents’. One of those guys sat at a desk right next to mine, and I smelled him for three years, no mistake. I don’t know what he used before, but I remember that like many other guys after 15, we switched to something more ‘adult’; I had just switched from MONIEUR BALMAIN to EAU SAVAGE. We lived facing the Caribbean with summer temperatures all year round. The ARAMIS line offered other options I never heard mentioned among my friends, yet they were equally renowned. Today I’m 63. These perfumes, the three named in this text, were recommended and considered ‘very youthful and light’ for adult men with beards in my teens… ¡¡¡ Ejejjejjejeej !!! Today, young people perceive them as smelling like old people; they either knew them used by their elders or because they fall outside the olfactory schemes of the new century. Reformulations make it impossible to judge these fragrances correctly. Today they are a pale reflection of what they were, and it’s not a matter of nostalgia. Some of them are proposed to me as ‘replicas’ diligently and skillfully reworked by private perfumers experts in bespoke scents from ‘other times’, and smelling them, when possible, is a delight… INCONCEIVABLE. My generation, among those who were privileged, bought originals in Paris, London, or New York, in that order in my case. ‘Imitations’ existed, but they only applied to fragrances with less important brands; lawsuits for plagiarism were economically unfeasible. My generation and circle were very, but very lucky; we grew up smelling exquisite fragrances without thinking much about the milliliters consumed daily… no bottle came with a spray. Eight out of ten of those people from my youth still hold a love for perfumes, and the truth is it’s not easy to access quality nectars unless a trip to Europe allows us to visit a few houses that preserve the Art. My desk-mate friend has lived in Europe for 35 years, and just hearing ARAMIS ARAMIS mentioned makes him frown, while for me… well, it makes me smile; it corresponds to a dear period of my past.
The perfume box with the gold-letter seal saying ‘Aramis’ seems to evoke the design of a tomb: the perfume smells of flowers, resins, and woods that I would associate with a funeral home. I feel that Aramis is the predecessor of those perfumes that smell funereal: Kouros, Lapidus, Balenciaga Pour Homme; it also has that aura of Polo Green, and due to the aldehyde note, I associate it with Chanel N°5. It is an exquisite, classic, and complex perfume: it’s not for young people; one would need to know classic fragrances to appreciate this jewel.
Several formulas or vertical tasting. Result: If you want a good modern formula of an elegant leather scent, go to Bel Ami. Don’t go paying fortunes for a vintage Aramis bottle on eBay. Here’s what needs to be said: the new Aramis formula, I suggest you don’t buy it, unfortunately, it’s anything but good, but that’s not Aramis. The Aramis sold now resembles Denim, or what they sell now as Cerruti, Lancetti, Quorum; it’s not snobbery, it’s that buying that is throwing money away to hate perfumery, get bored, and get lost. Edit: Oh, as for the price, Zara’s Leather Jardin turns the current Aramis formula upside down.
THE FOOTPRINT OF AN ETERNAL MAN. Aramis, launched in 1964, is one of those perfumes that imposes itself from the very first instant. It doesn’t care if you’re ready: it walks into the room with a firm step, a deep voice, but with a warm, paced, slightly raspy tone, and the deep gaze of someone who has seen it all. Its aromatic opening has that characteristic aldehydic shine of the classics, like a strong, secure handshake. But don’t be fooled: after that first elegant impression, comes the blow of truth. Dry woods, cured leather, an earthy base that smells of a forest after the rain… and of a man who knows what he’s doing. On the skin, Aramis can become directly addictive. It has that almost magical way of mixing with the chemistry of the wearer, until it becomes a second skin: darker, deeper… more dangerous. It’s not a perfume for kids in slim-fit shirts afraid of patchouli. Aramis demands presence, character, and a certain experience. The current version, reformulated, has lost some of that wild rudeness of the original, but it remains a jewel for the price. Sometimes more tamed, yes, but still with a soul. An excellent option if you want to stand out from the crowd of clean and sweet fragrances sold today. Conclusion? Aramis is not a perfume: it’s a statement. Don’t expect everyone to like it. But if it catches you… prepare yourself. Because it’s not a fragrance, it’s a story that begins on the skin…
What I like about this fragrance. I wear the vintage version that says ‘Cologne spray’ on the bottle, and it reminds me how rare it is to find something so bold and, at the same time, so well composed. It comes with everything: aldehydes that sparkle like cut glass, artemisia and bergamot that bite, and then a heavy, animalistic warmth that unfolds with overwhelming confidence. It doesn’t tiptoe or flirt. It arrives with shoulders firm, shirt half-unbuttoned, and challenges you to face it. What I like most about Aramis is how it manages to be animalistic and polished at the same time. It has a slightly sweaty note, of lived-in skin—probably castoreum—that gives it that sensual edge, but it’s balanced by clove, sage, patchouli, and a floral mist like a barbershop that keeps it elegant. It’s not as brazen as Kouros nor as enveloping as Bel Ami; it’s sharper, more compact, more angular… but it remains profoundly human. Last night I wore the current version of Bel Ami, which is rounder, softer, with a more marked balsamic touch, and I love how both fragrances feel like cousins with very different temperaments. The leather in Aramis doesn’t overwhelm; it vibrates in the background, constant, like a well-worn belt or the interior of an old car. Even now, almost 60 years later, Aramis feels current—not by following trends, but like a good suit or a bottle of aged whisky: things that simply don’t go out of style. This is worn when you don’t need to give explanations. It lasts all day, evolves with your skin, and leaves in its wake a kind of respectful silence. It’s not for everyone, and that’s exactly the point. This fragrance doesn’t seek to please the masses—it’s about presence. And Aramis has plenty of that.
Another beautiful recent discovery. I bought it last weekend and it was a blind buy. I have no regrets; on the contrary, the more I use it, the more I like it. At first, it generated a bit of confusion in me; the quantity of notes and the complexity of its aroma threw me off. However, little by little, you start to understand the magic of this exquisite fragrance that exhales a certain mystery, which certainly requires effort on your part and, above all, needs time to show all its potential. We are facing a masterpiece of perfumery that for a reason has remained relevant since its launch date: 1966. Eminently masculine, over the years it has been an icon of men’s fragrance for many, especially for those who grew up in the seventies and eighties. I personally had seen it many times displayed on the shelves of perfumeries like Druni or Primor, in the section of classic and affordable fragrances, but I had never been interested in it until a couple of days ago. And it’s that my recent passion for classic vintage perfumes, like barbershop or fougere, inexorably led me to it for obvious reasons. I love that enveloping halo it creates, generating a small personal bubble that makes me feel good, secure in myself. It’s potent but not invasive, powdery and armored at the same time, citrusy and woody at the same time, in short… a jewel and a must for any fragrance collector.
My nose gets tired with this perfume; it’s very strong, for older men who like very masculine scents.
Aramis is a classic and timeless fragrance that has been a pillar in the world of men’s perfumery since its launch in 1966. This perfume is the personification of elegance and sophistication, designed for the man who appreciates classic style and imposing presence. From the very first moment, Aramis impresses with its bold and aromatic top notes, where artemisia, clover, and gardenia create a fresh and herbaceous introduction. These notes blend perfectly with the heart of the fragrance, which reveals a rich and spicy combination of patchouli, sage, cardamom, and jasmine. This spicy heart adds depth and warmth that are truly masculine. The base notes of Aramis are what really define its lasting and robust character. A blend of leather, sandalwood, amber, and oakmoss provides an earthy and woody base, while the notes of musk and vetiver add a touch of sophistication and persistence. This combination ensures that the fragrance leaves an unforgettable and distinctive trail. Aramis is more than a fragrance; it’s a statement of style and presence. It’s ideal for the man who is not afraid to stand out and seeks a fragrance that reflects his confidence and sophistication. Whether for a formal occasion or daily use, Aramis is a perfect choice for the man who values quality and classic style. Every time I wear Aramis, I feel wrapped in an aura of elegance and power. It’s a fragrance that receives constant compliments and has withstood the test of time, demonstrating its relevance and enduring appeal. For those looking for a masculine and refined fragrance, Aramis by Aramis is, without a doubt, an unbeatable choice.
This 60s version is like Kouros but spicier and more characterful. The YSL is rounder and finer, while Aramis is rough, tough, and very masculine, which is why I don’t see it on feminine skin. That roughness is its signature—something that fit the 80s but today only appeals to nostalgics seeking potent scents, far from the YouTuber compliment culture. It’s a piece of history worth smelling and wearing if you dare or love the good smells of the past and present. Decent performance, but be careful not to overdo it in enclosed spaces.
A great perfume with a sparkling opening where absinthe and thyme lead, supported by bergamot for brightness and acidity, before yielding to exquisite leather with jasmine and patchouli. I bought it blind; the spicy citrus opening overwhelmed me at first, but over time it won me over, and now it’s one of the best in my collection. I don’t see much resemblance to Cabochard; the base is there, but little else. To me, Aramis feels more feminine and Cabochard more masculine, though both are perfect unisexes.
It belongs to that category of vintage perfumes that are a pain to wear. Ideal for someone who doesn’t care about compliments and enjoys pre-modern perfumery. Strong opening with aldehydes, then it settles into florals, but the leather and patchouli kill any feminine vibe. Duration and performance are decent. A must-buy for lovers of the old school. If you prefer scents like Invictus, Y, or One Million, stay away.
The popular men’s Cabochard: a woody chypre with guaranteed testosterone and no Energil. From 1966, by Bernard Chant, made in USA with 19 notes and French reminiscences. A more classic fragrance than strawberry Danone or any industrial product. It laid the groundwork for 80s macho-man fragrances like Bijan or the softer, cinnamon-toned ones from Giorgio and Oscar. It’s an old-school aroma. A millennial might reject it, but a man over 40 with character might love it as a great complement for winter and autumn. If you consider yourself knowledgeable about perfumery, having this is mandatory. It remains on the market thanks to Lauder and its loyalists. Reformulated, but it keeps its hours-long longevity and macho sillage. My wife likes it, even though she hates Bijan, Bentley, Creed Aventus, Fahrenheit, Dior Homme, Ted Lapidus, John Varvatos, Encre Noir, and many others.
Is Aramis Cabochard? Have you ever smelled Clinique’s Aromatics Elixir? I think Lauder uses the same formula with minimal changes. Aramis lacks Cabochard’s dark softness but has the brutal edges of Aromatics Elixir. It feels like an American interpretation of a classic French animalic scent. The modern version is quite wearable, especially if you layer something more dimensional on top. Perfect for those who don’t want to smell like mainstream perfume. I imagine the original was more potent, so if you’re looking for that, use Clinique’s Aromatics.
The only thing to note is that the new formulations unfortunately lack the same potency this fragrance always had. Before, a little went a long way and lasted until the next day; now it doesn’t quite last as long, and the fragrance has undergone some slight variations. Anyway, what happens to many perfumes these days.
This fragrance is, as most comment, a proper vintage with a very classic, masculine aroma. I like it for being different from current trends. What disappoints me is the longevity and intensity: it’s not as long-lasting or intrusive as I’ve read. I think it’s quite soft and wearable; I’d add more punch. I’m talking about the 2023 version. It’s available at a good price, so I recommend its rich spicy and woody aroma, classic with depth. It’s not heavy or just for older men. It can dress a young man well who wants to stand out. It dries nicely, and you can tell it’s quality because it’s not overly alcoholic.
It definitely smells like a funeral; don’t buy it blind like I did. It has a similar aroma to English Leather.
A classic and quality scent. With me, these types of heavy, spicy aromas don’t work, but it’s just a matter of taste. However, I can’t stop highlighting its longevity and sillage, which surprise me and speak of a quality fragrance.
A great classic. Aramis, now called Classic, is a survivor of more than half a century, making it very respectable. I own two versions: a current EDT I bought three years ago and an EDC from the 80s or 90s. Obviously, there was a reformulation; the change in concentration announces it, and they did it well. The current version (EDT) is almost identical to the EDC, so kudos to the house. I notice they lowered the moss and increased the leather in the new one, fitting IFRA restrictions. It’s a woody/chypre accord, a sibling to many perfumes from the 40s and 50s, some directed at women; Bandit by RP comes to mind, very wearable by men. From the opening, you notice the leather-moss accord used in old-school perfumery, seasoned with aldehydes, absinthe, and herbs. Then briefly appear cardamom and a bit of jasmine for an indolic touch. From there, the main accord takes over. It’s tenacious and projects quite a bit, so measure your sprays because it can be intrusive. It’s classic and anyone wanting a classic image can wear it, not an ‘old’ one. It doesn’t fit with current designer perfumery, which is sweet or aquatic compared to hard leather accords. Regardless of taste, every perfume lover should try it to know part of the history and open their nose and mind.
I don’t get why anyone would call this fragrance outdated just because it doesn’t fit into that boring pile of citrus-vanilla scents everyone wears. I agree with my colleagues: the opening is a disaster, but the magic happens during the dry-down, where it calms down and smells like luxury soap. I love it because it brings back old olfactory memories and feels unique in its concept. It’s elegant and performs better in the cold. Another gem in my collection. Cheers! If you like my reviews, follow me on TikTok: Chuliá Parfum Reviews @chulia.my13parfums
It’s a reformulated fragrance that no longer has the same punch, but it remains unmistakably Chanel Antheus. It smells like an older man, almost like mummy talc. It has a unique, old-school personality that’s elegant and attractive to older women. Don’t wear this in your thirties; you need gray hair for this. It has that green spice of rosemary, leather forgotten in a corner where dust is part of the scent… the sandalwood isn’t as sharp, nor the cardamom, with lily and musk in the base. The dry-down is soft and pleasant; the opening repels many noses but it can be worn in heat. Perhaps the most famous chypre of all time. It reminds us of older men, and women will say you smell like your dad or your uncles; today’s girls will say you smell like a Sugar Daddy.
Boss of the chypres, damn it. No half-measures; it smells like an older person, like moms. It’s not that it’s bad, but it’s truly vintage, timeless (even though my collection is vintage). Damn personality, though it doesn’t project much, it’s a heavy and invasive scent. With so much personality, it requires damn pants to carry it. To my taste, it’s a Calandre or Cabochard for men, damn aldehydes, aggressive herbal top notes. There’s no rose, but it has a potent rose nuance, and in the base, old leather with earth and classic moss from the era. An extraordinary salute.
Excellent aroma, maybe for the office. It has low projection but smells like a man. Longevity is nothing spectacular and the scent is super subtle; it’s noticeable but barely. Sensitive noses pick it up more; normal people only smell it up close, at 20-50 cm, just barely. It’s for smelling something, not for being loud or annoying. If you want a scent that isn’t invasive, this is it.
It’s one of those vintage fragrances that reminds you of someone from when you were young; maybe that gives it a bias. I like it a lot; it’s strong and has personality, but it smells like decades ago. I like it and I’ll keep using it as long as they make it. Since it’s strong, not recommended for heat. Its scent is unmistakable, very gentlemanly.
I absolutely loved it. The opening is animalic, old-school Kouros style, but once it dries down, it becomes a wonderful soapy, elegant, and clean scent. It doesn’t project much, though it lasts about 8 hours on the skin. I wear it in any season except when it’s stiflingly hot, always adjusting the amount based on the weather.
The first time I tried it, I was speechless due to its originality, even though I know it’s an older fragrance. In this 2021 version, I don’t detect the clear notes; it smells like leather, wet earth, or herbs. For me, it’s hard to wear and I’m not sure what occasion to use it for, but it’s a bottled surprise. I wore it once and didn’t get any compliments. It lasts 6 hours on skin and 8 on clothes. The price is great; I found it for 950 pesos. It’s not bad, it’s actually good and versatile, but it’s not a current scent for young people. I’ll keep testing it out.
A powerhouse body scent. It’s from another era, both for the good and the bad, in terms of intensity, presence, and longevity. The myrrh gives it an exotic and sweet touch. As it evolves, it’s incredible: intense and possessive. It’s excessive in summer. Imagine a musketeer on a leather chair, fighting over moss or at a port with ships full of myrrh and patchouli. The price is unbeatable. I wouldn’t buy it for that strong nostalgic vibe, but if you’re into leather and unapologetic masculinity, it’s a scent to wear and try.
Yesterday I tried Aramis out of curiosity, and to sum it up, it’s Cabochard. Since I sprayed it on my arm, it hasn’t stopped reminding me of the other one; for me, they’re the same. I’d even say Aramis, a men’s fragrance, feels more feminine to me than Cabochard, which, despite being a women’s scent, is drier and tougher, leaning more masculine. Aramis seemed sweeter and cloying to me. It’s curious that being so similar, I like one and not the other much. Maybe the day wasn’t the best because it was hot and it bothered me a bit. On Fragrantica there are 282 votes for similarity against 100 for difference, and those 100 people who don’t see the connection seem like a lot. Then I saw that the perfumer is the same, Bernard Chant, and I imagined a funny scene: Bernard’s wife asking him how he’s carrying the new perfume for Monday while it’s Friday, and him scratching his belly. Damn perfume, he puts on the formula, adds a bit of tarragon, removes this and adds that, smells good, and there it is. Great, so what are you going to call it? Eh, well, since I just made it up right now, I can call it… Aramis. ARAMIS!!
I wore it in my early twenties and it suited my personality, though it drew attention for its older-man masculine vibe. Its woody and leather notes make it perfect for formal situations and cold environments, but never for sports or dancing.