Green Jeans by Versace

I stumbled upon this back in high school about 10 years ago. Everyone at home hated it, but at 15, I adored it. It’s a classic green and woody scent with the same DNA as Blue Jeans. Over time, it dries down to a clean, crisp, soapy vibe with a sharp citrus kick. My bottle ran out 7 years ago, and even when I open it to remember, the scent is still there. I’d give anything for another bottle, but it’s discontinued and I doubt they’ll relaunch it since it’s so different from what’s popular today.

This was my first designer fragrance at 16. Almost 20 years later, I stumbled upon it by accident (it’s been discontinued for ages) and bought two bottles at the price. Honestly, I don’t remember it smelling like this; maybe the perfume has changed, but it smells much spicier than I recall. It used to be green, but these smell very strong—like a pine disinfectant mixed with spices. It wouldn’t work in today’s market. Nothing stands out except the nostalgia.

Just by the name, I was more attracted if its Blue version was excellent. Luckily, I found a bottle and I feel like a kid with new shoes. Green Jeans by Versace is a gift for lovers of green and masculine perfumes like me. If I had a time machine, I would go back to fix the moment when pine perfumes for men stopped being important. Green Jeans is that: pine is the protagonist, treated from a fresh and sporty perspective without the burden of the baroque ferns of the previous decade. It’s a forest fern seeking affinity with nature. It has parts very similar to Gucci Nobile and above all to Wild Pine. It gives that impression of Christmas fir but kinder, mossy, like a quiet spring morning. It reminds me of Dunlop Green, that cologne sold in Spain: glorious green and idyllic like the smell of a tennis court before a match. Although its structure is classic, the base points to something youthful and informal. Acceptable projection and it lasts a long time. Little gem.

Glass cleaner aromatized with lavender, pine, and lemon. This is not a woody fragrance; it’s a handmade fern without oak moss. Citrus, spicy, and aromatic. I suppose lovers of this type will find it interesting, but I’m not an expert and I hate ferns; this one was unbearable for me, it reminds me of a youthful Brummel. When Versace launched the Jeans line in the nineties, owning one of these was a trophy. Today, teenagers handle money like trading cards, but back then you had to earn it. Buying a designer perfume meant saving for months. The first perfume I bought with my own money was its blue brother, Blue Jeans. I was fascinated; it was oriental, cloying, sweet, and opulent. Everyone commented that I was wearing a woman’s cologne (fashions change!). I used several bottles, I got older, and Blue Jeans stopped seeming like mine. However, I remember it with affection, just like its red version or the yellow companion of Green. That’s why I was disappointed buying Green Jeans blindly. I let myself be carried away by nostalgia, and where I expected something refreshing and modern, I ran into the bastard son of Halston 1-12 and Don Algodón for men. With what I spent on my last three blind buys, I could have bought a nice, already-tested perfume that I don’t use but would love to have at home (like Dior Homme). New Year’s resolution: never buy blind again. Enjoy the ones you have, use them, and when they run out, go to a perfumery to try. That’s it.

This fragrance is a refreshing citrus with a musk dry-down that makes it even better. The best part is the scent and longevity. Recommended for hot days. The downside is that it’s already discontinued.