Looking for Cleaning Paradise Hawaii reviews? We’ve pulled together links to their Google, Facebook and Yelp pages so you can check them all out in one spot. Whether you’re looking for praise or red flags, we’ve made it easy to get the full picture before you book your next cleaning.
Cleaning Paradise Hawaii Reviews from Real Customers
The Secret Ingredient
In luxury real estate, everyone thinks it’s all about the view. And sure, when you’re selling beachfront property in Kahala or a penthouse condo in Kaka’ako with Diamond Head framed perfectly through floor-to-ceiling windows, that matters. But after fifteen years in this business, I’ve learned the secret isn’t just what people see—it’s what they feel.
And what they smell. God, the smells people live with and don’t even notice.
That’s why I have a local house cleaning team on speed dial. They are the unsung heroes behind every multi-million dollar listing I’ve closed in the last seven years.
I discovered them by accident. I was in a bind with this $4.2 million property on Portlock Road—stunning place, but the previous owners had five golden retrievers and a smoking habit. Two days before the first open house, the place still reeked. The cleaning service I normally used had basically shrugged and said some nonsense about “letting it air out.”
In panic mode, I called the first company that popped up when I searched for “emergency deep cleaning Honolulu.” They answered on the second ring.
“How bad?” they asked after I explained.
“Like a wet dog rolled in an ashtray and then died,” I admitted.
They laughed. “We’ll be there in an hour.”
When I walked into that house the next day, I almost checked the address to make sure I was in the right place. Not a hint of dog or cigarette. Instead, there was this subtle fragrance—plumeria with something else I couldn’t quite place. Clean but not chemical. Fresh but not fake.
The house sold at the first open house. Over asking.
Now my house cleaning team preps every listing before I put it on the market. I even built their fee into my standard contract with sellers. “Property preparation services,” I call it. Worth every penny.
Last month, I had this incredible mid-century modern in Hawai’i Kai. The owner was this tech guy who’d bought it as a vacation home but used it maybe twice a year. When I first saw it, there was a fine layer of red dirt on everything—that Hawai’i dust that somehow finds its way inside even when the house is sealed up tight as a drum.
“The house itself is gorgeous,” I told the cleaning company over the phone. “But it feels… unlived in.”
“We’ll make it feel like home,” they promised.
When the team was done, the place gleamed, but more importantly, it felt warm. Alive. They had placed a small arrangement of local flowers in the kitchen—nothing fancy, just some white ginger and a few ti leaves in a simple glass vase. The bathrooms had these little bamboo trays with folded washcloths and locally-made plumeria soap. Details that whispered “luxury” without screaming it.
The vog was terrible that week—that volcanic haze that sometimes drifts over from the Big Island, making the air heavy and visibility poor. But inside, the air was crisp and clean. When potential buyers stepped inside from the muggy, hazy day, I could see them physically relax.
“I use this house cleaning cost calculator to estimate each job,” my friend Lisa once told me over coffee at Morning Glass in Mānoa. “But then I always add an hour for what I call ‘the feeling work.'”
“The feeling work?”
“Making sure the energy flows right,” she said, completely serious. “A clean house isn’t enough for these properties. It has to feel like the buyer already lives there—their best life, the one they aspire to.”
I nodded, thinking she was a bit woo-woo, but her results spoke for themselves.
The funny thing is, other realtors are always trying to figure out my “staging secret.” They see my listings and how quickly they move, even in slower markets. No one believes it’s just really good cleaning.
“What stager do you use?” they ask at broker’s opens.
I just smile. “I have a team.”
Last week, I was walking through a $6.8 million listing in Lanikai with a potential buyer—a hedge fund guy from New York. The house had been on the market for three months with another agent before the seller came to me. The cleaning team had worked their magic the day before.
The buyer stood on the lanai overlooking the Mokulua Islands, taking a deep breath of the ocean air mingled with the subtle scent the crew had created inside.
“It feels like home already,” he said, surprising himself.
I just nodded. He made an offer that afternoon.
Maybe someday I’ll get my own place cleaned by this team, just to see what it feels like. My condo in Ala Moana could use some of that magic. But for now, they’re my secret weapon in this cutthroat market—turning houses into homes before the new owners even know they’re home.
— Malia Kamaka, Honolulu, Hawaii