Sandalwood Cologne Geo. F. Trumper for men

I have this version of the fragrance classic that is Sandalwood, out of curiosity this afternoon I managed to track down a department store that actually sold 'Egoiste' by Chanel (very rare in the UK). To my astonishment I could not differentiate between the two; their composition being as damn as near-identical as I have ever experienced to date!

I work in Jermyn Street and several of my customers came in smelling of this as the Trumper shop is nearby.
I even asked the people smelling of this whether they bought "Egoiste" by CHANEL as it is very very similar.
If comparing the 2, Egoiste is more spicey and pungent in the beginning but dry down is very similar.

Trumper's Sandalwood is more floral due to Jasmine content and allover more rounded and rich.

I think it is also less expensive than CHANEL (but I could be wrong).

I used to love CHANEL's "Egoiste" but I think "Sandalwood" is actually more pleasant and easier to wear.

Sandalwood. It's so natural for olfactory daydreams of Rudyard Kipling’s armpits to spring to mind. The usual associations we all share of Mr Kipling as editor of the Times of India at the height of the British Raj in the late 1880s; his hands smudged with printing press ink, the stale air around his sweating back and arm pits heavy with an overly sweet and cloying perfume of sandalwood, as his punka-wallah servant chews vanilla pods after munching his oniony saag aloo whilst pulling on a large calico ceiling fan using just two toes of his remaining one leg. Yes, so easy to form such generalisations about sandalwood.

Why then did I decide to part with 43 guineas at Mr Trumpers esteemed barbershop in St. James? In part it was due to something of an epiphany whilst entering the sullen bunker of Tower Hill Underground station on Tuesday at around a quarter past eight in the morning. A tall swarthy chap with rubber soled leather shoes, an Arsenal football shirt and cheap looking short hair (vainly sculpted into hardened gel spikes), swept past me with an odour that would at the very best be described as reminiscent of an inferior composition of sandalwood (from some dreadful pharmacy body spray that young real estate agents prefer), and at the very worst, should be described as the testicular odour of a boar (a wild pig, if you will) whose pendulous scrotum has been dragged back and forth across the rough bark of the sandalwood tree in an effort to scratch an itch which cannot be appeased with pig's trotters.

Struck by this aggressive testosterone fuelled sandalwood, I immediately froze to the spot as Londoners hurriedly jostled by me like ferrets down a rabbit warren. The reason for my consternation? It occurred to me, with a creeping dread, that I did not own a single sandalwood based cologne.

Thus the following Friday, I resolutely resolved to obtain said cologne from Trumpers (whilst picking up a tube of rose shaving cream for my imminent holiday in Tobago). I sprayed the back of my hand in the boutique and with my voice cracking in urgency, I confirmed my intention to purchase a small atomizer of it.

For the entire journey home on the underground, ignoring the bizarre looks of fellow passengers, I repeatedly raised my hand to my nose and deeply inhaled the powdery arboreal scent like a man sucking in oxygen on Mount Everest and mumbled aloud my thoughts on its composition: “floating notes of carnation …and jasmine plucking the strings of the sandalwood like a cello, the vanilla dancing…. only to quietly fade… into the embracing petals of the rose”. This was indeed just as Mr Trumper promised on his packaging, a superior cologne from a place called “Mysore” (wherever on earth that is in India, probably a high end department store for high-net-worth upper-caste Brahmins without an outcast in sight).

Immediately I was transported to the Kiplinesque Story of “The Man who would be King”, a tale of India, Afghanistan and Kafirestan where Peachy Carnehan and Daniel Dravott set out to be Kings in the days of Queen Victoria and the British Empire – immortalized in John Huston’s classic Movie from 1974 starring Connery and Caine.

So there I was, smouldering with sandalwood, sauntering around like a British Sargeant Major of the Raj, a King amongst commoners. That night, alone as usual, I ordered a home delivery from the Bengal Clipper, and as I opened my door, the waft of chicken madras and pappadoms greeted me. I was suitably Victorian in my sandalwood inspired British tones as I demanded to know from the delivery boy on my doorstep as to when the Tiger hunting season was to begin, before sending him away with a harsh word and a cuff around the head and certainly without a tip.
Ahhhhhh….dining alone. Warm sensual Sandalwood and an imperious cold uptight arrogant manner – Hoorah! Another first for Britain!

The most sophisticated cologne I have found in years. Women love it!! It will last all day without losing the aroma, but it is not over powering. A strong reminder of a more gentil time, when the sun never set on the British Empire. The heady scent of India and foreign places.

Oh to be a proper gent, the suit, the office, the long boozy lunch, the golf course. A happy confident man with a glint in his eyes.
Ok it's more about the cedar than the sandalwood but then it's also more about style and confidence than the sandalwood too. For men that don't have to prove a damn thing :)

Sophisticated and airy aromatic with light woody tones, not balmy-sweet as I expected. Can be used as unisex.