08/15/2023
Exciter76
78 Reviews
Exciter76
3
Peach Violet Iced Tea
Originally reviewed on July 7, 2012:
Versace’s Red Jeans has all the scented chronological markers of a mid-1990s perfume: an opening of pitted fruits, a gooey center of traditional flowers of pink, yellow, white and purple, and a base of sandalwood-and-white-floral muskiness. What sets this apart from its contemporaries is its muted nature. While Tresor, Tuscany Per Donna, and Champs Elisées were shouting Red Jeans was speaking coyly in hushed tones. But do not think because the volume was turned down that the impact of what was whispered was diminished—it still packs a wallop.
The opening is lightly sweetened peach iced tea and rose petals. Then, once the juice dries upon the skin, it transmutes into a powder-free, sugar-free violet, similar to the violet in Bvlgari II. The roses are still lurking around but the heart is a big bouquet of violets. The drydown is familiar, like the one encountered in Happy, Charlie White, and Splendor. I love this white floral/musk base so I’m smitten with the drydown. If you are turned off by the all-too-familiar musky base, run—don’t walk—from this perfume; expect this musk to linger till your next shower.
I am always shocked and amazed at the going price of RJ—it’s practically being given away. I’ve spent up to seven times as much for perfumes of inferior quality. Just looking at the cheeky bottle, it is easy to forget this is a fragrance from the house of Versace. It is, in fact, a Versace perfume and it is quite possibly one of the house’s best. It is definitely one of the best violet fragrances I have yet tried. Don’t let the bottle or the price scare you away.
Reminiscing on August 15, 2023:
My review still stands. It's been eleven years and I feel exactly the same about Red Jeans. I don't have my bottle anymore. Often, I contemplate getting another bottle. It's a friendly, aqueous violet that is summer-appropriate. It's sundresses and big, silly designer sunglasses. "Red Jeans" was a poor choice for a name—"Sundresses" or "Pastel T-Shirts" would've been better names. Those are terrible names, but "Red Jeans" sets the bar for something more vixen-ish or opulent. This is soft pastels and diaphanous materials.
Versace’s Red Jeans has all the scented chronological markers of a mid-1990s perfume: an opening of pitted fruits, a gooey center of traditional flowers of pink, yellow, white and purple, and a base of sandalwood-and-white-floral muskiness. What sets this apart from its contemporaries is its muted nature. While Tresor, Tuscany Per Donna, and Champs Elisées were shouting Red Jeans was speaking coyly in hushed tones. But do not think because the volume was turned down that the impact of what was whispered was diminished—it still packs a wallop.
The opening is lightly sweetened peach iced tea and rose petals. Then, once the juice dries upon the skin, it transmutes into a powder-free, sugar-free violet, similar to the violet in Bvlgari II. The roses are still lurking around but the heart is a big bouquet of violets. The drydown is familiar, like the one encountered in Happy, Charlie White, and Splendor. I love this white floral/musk base so I’m smitten with the drydown. If you are turned off by the all-too-familiar musky base, run—don’t walk—from this perfume; expect this musk to linger till your next shower.
I am always shocked and amazed at the going price of RJ—it’s practically being given away. I’ve spent up to seven times as much for perfumes of inferior quality. Just looking at the cheeky bottle, it is easy to forget this is a fragrance from the house of Versace. It is, in fact, a Versace perfume and it is quite possibly one of the house’s best. It is definitely one of the best violet fragrances I have yet tried. Don’t let the bottle or the price scare you away.
Reminiscing on August 15, 2023:
My review still stands. It's been eleven years and I feel exactly the same about Red Jeans. I don't have my bottle anymore. Often, I contemplate getting another bottle. It's a friendly, aqueous violet that is summer-appropriate. It's sundresses and big, silly designer sunglasses. "Red Jeans" was a poor choice for a name—"Sundresses" or "Pastel T-Shirts" would've been better names. Those are terrible names, but "Red Jeans" sets the bar for something more vixen-ish or opulent. This is soft pastels and diaphanous materials.