About SugarHill

SugarHill Soap and Candle Company is personal.

It started with a girl from Harlem who grew up knowing that where you come from can shape you—but it never has to limit you.

Rakim said it best: “It ain't where you're from, it's where you're at.”

Harlem is in my blood. Harlem is who I am. Harlem is what made me.

I grew up in a Harlem where you could walk outside and feel like the whole world was happening right there on your block.

Italian ices from the corner store. Mr. Softee coming down the street. Double Dutch on the sidewalk. Stickball and skelsies on the pavement. Music coming through apartment windows, cars, radios, and boom boxes.

And then there was a new sound.

Before we called it hip-hop, we knew something different was coming through the radio. Something like nothing we'd ever heard before.

It wasn't R&B. It wasn't rock.

It was something new. Something raw. Something exciting. Something that made you stop and listen.

You watched the B-boys break to it on the corners, and you learned every rhythm you could.

Friday and Saturday nights, sitting by the radio with your tape recorder set to record and pause, ready to catch the newest jams—hoping the DJ would stop talking over the intro long enough for you to get a clean copy.

That's what changed my world.

Hearing Eric B. & Rakim's “Eric B. Is President” for the first time. Hearing Super Nature's , aka Salt N' Pepa's “The Show Stoppa (Is Stupid Fresh)”. Hearing White Lines. Hearing the Beastie Boys. Doug E. Fresh. And So many more...

Those memories are etched so deep into my mind, I don't believe that feeling will ever be erased.

And suddenly, that sound wasn't just coming through the radio anymore.

It was everywhere.

And the crazy part about growing up in Harlem was that you didn't have to feel far away from the people making it happen.

These weren't just names on a radio.

You could see the artists. You could hear the music coming from the streets. You could watch the culture develop around you. You could be in Harlem and see people who were creating the sound, the style, and the energy that would go far beyond New York City.

Harlem wasn't watching the world happen. Harlem was helping make it happen.

And baby, Harlem knew how to look good doing it.

Some of the flyest, most stylish, most unapologetically fabulous people I've ever known were walking the streets of Harlem.

When you came outside, you were it.

You dressed to impress.

The sidewalk could be a runway. The neighborhood could be a fashion show.

Harlem had its own style, its own attitude, its own language, its own rhythm. You didn't have to leave Harlem to see what was next.

Harlem was already setting the trends.

And that's important to me because I never want the story to sound like I came from some little place where the world was small, and then I left and discovered that the world was bigger.

The world was already big in Harlem.

Harlem was a world all its own.

A planet.

A universe.

Harlem World.

That spirit stayed with me.

Because growing up in Harlem taught me something that I've carried everywhere I've gone:

You don't have to choose one version of yourself.

You can be a little city and a little country. A little urban and a little rural. You can love sneakers and silk. You can love old-school hip-hop and country music. You can appreciate the finer things and still know how to have a good time outside.

You can ride horses, travel in an RV, go fishing, dream about keeping bees, and still get excited about beautiful things.

Because the world was never small to me.

Harlem was never small.

And as I've grown, traveled, changed, learned, and experienced more of life, I've simply added more chapters to that story.

The places I've gone. The things I've seen. The music I've loved. The people I've met. The finer things I've discovered.

They didn't replace Harlem.

They expanded me.

And somewhere along the way, all of those pieces came together in SugarHill.

A girl from Harlem. A sister. A military wife. A boy mom. A nurse.

A perfect mixture of all the things that make me, me.

And that's what I hope to convey through SugarHill Soap and Candle Company.

The fragrances. The candles. The soaps. The colors. The nostalgia. The attitude. The little bit of luxury. The memories. The music. The feeling you get when something smells so good it takes you somewhere.

That's SugarHill.

It's a little bit of where I came from and a whole lot of where I've been.

It's old-school and new-school. Familiar and unexpected. Sweet and grown. A little city. A little country. A little fancy. A little fabulous.

A perfect mixture—like a dope lyric over a tight beat.

But always, always SugarHill.

Because Harlem gave me my foundation.

And the rest of the world gave me more to bring home.

And maybe that's what you'll find here, too.

Because you're made up of pieces.

Your memories. Your music. Your people. Your places. Your style. Your stories. The things you love. The things you've learned. The places you've been. The person you're still becoming.

All of those pieces make you who you are.

That's what I hope you feel when you experience SugarHill.

Not just a fragrance.

Not just a candle.

Not just a bar of soap.

But a little something that feels like you.

Something that takes you back. Something that makes you smile. Something that sets a mood. Something that reminds you of who you were, who you are, or who you're becoming.

And I hope you'll stick around.

Because SugarHill is still writing its story.

And if this chapter feels good, just wait until you see what the next one brings.

Welcome to SugarHill.
It's so lovely.