3 reviews for Jewelry of Heaven Velvet & Sweet Pea’s Purrfumery

1. 

   soloigorek – 2022-06-21:

   3 out of 5

   “Jewelry of Heaven.” Isn’t that a fantastic name for a perfume? And the fragrance itself is truly a precious, exquisite treasure. I smell beautiful, lush red roses coupled with a hint of bright, radiant jasmine. What caught me off-guard was a note that I perceive as blood orange, and it gives the perfume a fruity quality. Not jammy, but sort of candied like marmelade, so there is a sweetness but also a juiciness. There is also something that smells faintly like candle wax and maybe just a touch of vanilla; maybe not. I’m not sure, but it’s slightly creamy. It drifts up to my nose and just smells like a summer breeze–sweet, warm, fragrant. Glorious!
2. 

   fep – 2022-06-21:

   5 out of 5

   I like this one very lush. My first thought was it smelled like vintage fruit stripped gum in a good way. I’d buy some more of this juicy juice.
3. 

   Traumfraufanuno – 2022-06-21:

   3 out of 5

   I’m going to post my review for Laurie’s “Jasmine & Orange Blossom” here because there’s no option for it but it’s so stunning and the aesthetic of “Velvet & Sweet Pea” so charming and carefully presented, that I felt it had to be acknowledged on here.
   Imagine you could own a perfume — a real, genuine, no stretching-the-truth perfume — from The Perfumed Court of the 18th century; except, without the social injustice of peasants begging for bread at the palace gates on your conscience? Or a perfume from a Victorian lady’s private perfumer; except, without the archaic, animal cruelty involved in creating animalic notes? Own a perfume made of only the most perfect harvests of raw blooms, with no exaggeration?
   Well, you can. Laurie Stern is the real deal — a genuine perfumer in the classic tradition. Someone who has a creative sensibility on the molecular level, kind of like the difference between someone who can paint a picture with some learned skill and someone who was born to paint masterpieces.
   My package arrived and tucked inside, between colorful, paper confetti, were two, beautiful notecards, one a sort of calling card and explanation of her business, another printed story and a postcard of her distillery. Besides that, packaged in a purple, velvet bag, with a cloth flower sewn on — not velveteen, imitation velvet or felt velvet but the real, liquid-looking material — was a flip-top roll-on vial of “Jasmine Orange Blossom” with a vintage looking label. Also, in a purple, tulle bag, a solid of “Jasmine Tuberose”.
   Now, the scent. Like liquid sunshine. It opens on a smooth, nectary blood-orange, that has none of the awkward and over-expansive hesperide citrus notes that often overwhelm other notes; this citrus is smooth,rich and dense, as if simmered down in a pan with spice, but still fresh. Next, the orange blossom emerges and its chewy, sweet waxiness is perfectly balanced, here, being neither too sweet or too heady as orange blossom can often be. This is the smell of blossoms on the tree, warming in the hot, mid-day sun.
   As it progresses, the orange blossom ripens but never too much. It never smells more carnal than the sebum on the clean head of a baby, sitting in the sunshine. That’s my favorite quality in orange blossom, when it’s done well — that smell of a clean, warm, oily-dry head, of skin musk. I know that sounds weird but it’s such a cozy, languid, intimate smell that also happens to be the smell of perfectly respectable moments, like waking up with the sunlight streaming across your bed.
   Next, a smooth, subtle jasmine puffs up, in little, fleshy and spicy bursts, between the orange flowers and it gives the impression of floral notes being carried on a warm breeze. The blend stays slightly sweet but becomes duskier, now, like plants that have baked in a full day of sun, of clean skin salty with a battering of wind and sun.
   I am dumbfounded by the tender artistry, the extraordinary quality and lush luxury of this scent and the whimsical approachability of the brand aesthetic, that is, somehow, so formal yet playful, at the same time. How can I ever go back to other “perfumes” after experiencing this brand?
   “Velvet & Sweet Pea” is priced higher than department store fragrances and some niche brands but not nearly as high as some far, less worthy products. This is not the place to look for a bucket of scent for $30 but that doesn’t mean Laurie’s perfumes are not, undeniably, worth what she is asking for them — and not based on some vague, personal opinion of herself but a fair and honest measurement of quality; what is genuinely deserved. My constant impression, from presentation, to the experience of wearing this scent was “Care, quality, rarity, time, effort, artistic meditation”. There is something of hers available to everyone — $16 – $1,600 — but the quality never wavers, these scents last and last and you can not find a comparable experience, simply by shopping around. Laurie’s an artist. You can’t reproduce the experience of an artist working in their studio and producing a wide, range of pieces, simply by bringing in a better marketing group.
   As if it hasn’t already been obvious enough, I adore this brand. It’s one of a kind.