Yvette (2007)
by Michael Storer

I like Yvette for the weirdest of reasons. People often associate perfumes with memories, and usually in a romantic way. This won't be the case here, but memories is the reason why I like Yvette.

When I was 10 years old turning 11, my house was set on fire on Christmas Eve. It's not as bad as it sounds like, but I mention this since I associate two perfumes with it.

Comme des Garcons's Tea smells like my house the day after it burned. It was partially damaged so we could enter, and it smelled of burnt wood, which was nice in an odd way.

Yvette smells like a product used in a "smell machine" contractors used to make the burnt wood smell go away. They had repaired the house but for a few months, it would still smell like burnt wood. This machine produced a "pink" scent that gradually overcame the smoky odor. Yvette is very similar to that odor, and so my memory associates 6 months of insurance money coming in, buying me a Super Nintendo with the newly released Street Fighter 2, Mortal Kombat and other gems... As I said, this wouldn't be a romantic review. I was 11 year old when we started using the smell-machine. Now I want a bottle of it.

Dispite the many notes in this fragrance, I mainly pick up the terragon. That is fine with me because I like terragon (and anise for that matter.) Here it presents itself as woody and semi-sweet, which is extremely nice. It is rounded off by a smooth, subtle vanilla-like note. This is beautiful, but not terribly long-lasting on me.

Having read Quarry's review before trying Yvette, I did so with hesitation.
Then the aroma of tart cherry pie, mildly herbed and slightly spiced, emanated from my open sample. Behind these bright notes is an effervescent - and unfortunately evanescent - tea rose tinged bouquet. Lovely.

This is the story of two Basenotes perfumistas who were scent-opposites but drawn together in friendship. One liked her florals light and fresh (let's call her Shycat), and other liked her florals deep and mellow (let's call her Quarry). Each found herself embracing Michael Storer's inventiveness. The one loved and ordered Yvette and Genvieve, but disliked Stephanie. The other adored Stephanie, and didn't understand Yvette or Genvieve at all.

Okay, that's not a very cryptic story, is it? I, Quarry, cannot appreciate "soprano" florals. Like a dog who's pained by a high-pitch whistle, I twist my head from side to side at the likes of Yvette. Stephanie, however, makes me drool. So, while I'm giving a thumb's down to Yvette because she's "squeaky" to me, does not mean you shouldn't try her. I have a lot of respect for Mr. Storer's professionalism and for Shycat's tastes.