Ah, the lei. You probably already have a vague idea of what it’s supposed to be. Even if you’ve never held one in your hands, or worn one around your neck, you can likely already picture it in your head: A thick, fetching garland of delicate island flowers, usually worn around the neck of a noisy tourist. Generations of pop culture has turned Hawaiian leis, once a local tradition, into a worldwide symbol of exotic vacations and island getaways.
For the people of the Polynesia region, from Tahiti to Hawaii, the making and giving of leis are an age-old tradition. In the past, lei were used to indicate wealth, ranks, and royal status. Today, leis are given as gifts to honor people. Common recipients include visiting dignitaries, new graduates, loved ones who are departing, and loved ones who have come home for a visit. They are also given out on special occasions as well. Events as wide-ranging as marriages, funerals, graduations, and birthdays are all considered valid events for the giving of lei. Lei truly occupies an omnipresent role in Polynesian culture, as key to their celebrations as cakes are in the West. In fact, there is even a dedicated holiday just to honor the lei. Every first of March since 1929, Lei Day is celebrated. Parades and festivals are held all over Hawaii, while people compete in Beauty pageants and lei-making contests.
The undoubted reason why leis are so iconic worldwide, though, is tourism. With the rise of tourism to Hawaii in the 19th century (especially by the Americans and British), Westerners came back with merry stories about the beautiful flower necklaces they received from the islanders. Thereafter, any depiction of the Pacific islands and their inhabitants inevitably featured the colorful garlands. In fact, Hawaiian leis are so iconic that tourists to Hawaii can even order a traditional greeting, where they are gifted with freshly-made leis as they touch down at the airport.
The lei in the popular imagination is a fluffy affair, a necklace thick with the petals and the cheerful scent of freshly-picked flowers. While flowers are undoubtedly one of the most common materials for a lei, leis in fact can be made out of just about anything. There have been lei made out of feathers, leaves, vines, and fern fronds. There have also been lei made out of harder materials such as seashells, animal bones, and seeds. Even more modern materials like candy, paper, and coins have been used.
Indeed, several islands are known for making distinctive types of lei. The island of Niihau is famous for its lei made out of shells that shine like gemstones, called lei pupu. The Tongans are known for their distinctive-looking "kahoa" lei that are made of cloth ribbons, unto which flowers and foliage are sown. The residents of Niue make their lei from bright yellow snail shells. So long as it can be strung together in a beautiful series that can be worn around a person, there are no limits on what you can make a lei out of.
Be warned, though. While a lei may be seen by outsiders as just a trinket, a beautiful but superfluous accessory, it is seen as more than that to the Polynesian people. In most cases, a lei represents the love and friendship of the giver towards the recipient. Thus, simply throwing a lei in the trash is considered incredibly rude, being equivalent to throwing away someone’s love. If one is not able to wear the lei for whatever reason, they should be displayed on a place of honor (such as the stand of a musician), or hung in a room or vehicle to let its scent fill the air. Traditionally, if one truly wishes to get rid of it, the lei should be returned to the earth: either by burying, burning, or hanging the lei in a tree.
After seeing all the different materials you can make a lei out of, as well as all the wonderful occasions the lei is gifted, some of you may be tempted to make your own. Luckily, there isn’t one definitive way of creating a lei. In fact, the methods of making a lei are almost as varied as the materials making them up. You could pierce the material with a needle and string it on a thread, which is the method most non-Polynesians are familiar with. You could also braid or plait the material itself, if it’s already long and stringy, as is traditionally done with vines and palm strands. You can even sew the material on a pre-existing length of cloth, as is done in Tonga.
Who knows? Perhaps in your next trip to Hawaii, you’ll be the one presenting your homemade lei to the locals. They will certainly appreciate this sudden role reversal!
