Maunakea Street in Honolulu is chock full of slate shops. And Cindy’s Lei Shoppe is “the oldest shop on the street,” says salesman Alex Lau (24) proudly. “Cindy was my grandmother, her name has been on the store since 1959.”
Like all the shops on the street that make flower necklaces, Cindy’s is a piece of cake. The chains are put together with needle and thread at tables in the back. At the front are the refrigerated display cases with leis in plastic boxes. They are a bit like meal salads and often cost a few tens of euros.
Lau takes a necklace of white flowers from one of the display cases. “This is tuberose, it has a strong smell and grows locally. Just smell it!” Further along hangs a bright purple slate of orchids. “Everyone is talking about this one now: the Thai orchid. It lasts longer, is cheaper and larger. The local market cannot compete with that.”
Nothing is more Hawaiian than the lei, the wreath of flowers that in local culture equates to love, greeting or congratulations – whether celebrating a passed exam or honoring visitors. But the cheap Thai orchid is advancing and seems to be winning out over the native Hawaiian one.
Nothing is more Hawaiian than the lei, the wreath of flowers that in local culture equates to love, greeting or congratulations
Reason for a recent bill that would require the state of Hawaii to gradually increase its purchasing of lei in the coming yearsbuy Hawaiianto apply. Leis must also be labeled with an indication of their origin. One of the petitioners is Darius Kila (30), a native Hawaiian and member of the Hawaiian House of Representatives for the Democrats.
The protectionist measure should boost Hawaii’s small orchid industry, Kila said in his office in the State Capitol. But according to him it is not just about economic reasons: the slate tradition deserves protection.
What makes a slate a slate?
Just as you can quickly buy flowers at Schiphol in the Netherlands before picking someone up, you will find several stalls at Honolulu airport where you can quickly purchase a lei.
The slate is also strongly integrated into the mores and customs of the state. A local medium had made an inventory in 2025 that politicians spend up to hundreds of dollars a year on flower necklaces at opening ceremonies and working visits. In the sector go annually several million dollars to.
Only: in many cases the lei is not Hawaiian at all. Most, according to some reports more than 90 percent comes from Thailand – whether it concerns loose flowers or ready-made lei. It is often the purple orchid, by far the most popular lei among tourists. “For me, that begs the question: what actually makes a lei a lei?” says Darius Kila.
Hawaii once had a very vibrant culture surrounding its flora, but… there is little left of it. The proliferation of (hotel) real estate, cheaper imports and tough working conditions put an end to, for example, the cultivation of carnations on the island of Maui. It’s a shame, says Kila: “This art form connects us directly with our ancestors. But you cannot honor such a tradition if it is not authentic.” The law has the support of the Native Hawaiian Council, an organization that promotes the interests of the original inhabitants.
Capacity cannot meet demand
In the Watanabe Floral flower shop, director Monty Pereira (56) picks up a slate with more types of flowers. “This is part tuberose from here, and part imported carnation.” He just wants to say: what label should he put on it?
The bill has led to much discussion in the island state (1.4 million inhabitants). There were varying reactions at a consultation session at the State Capitol in Honolulu. No one disputes the good intentions, but there are many questions about feasibility.
“We are not close to the capacity to meet local demand,” says Pereira. His company, with more than eighty employees, is the largest flower supplier in the state. He sells about 250,000 leis every year, he says in his office at the back of the store. These go to supermarket chains such as Target and Costco – good for a quarter of its turnover.
Pereira, also native Hawaiian, does not contribute much to the government, but fears “a snowball effect” if the proposal becomes law. “It is clear what its purpose is: to stop imports.” Unfeasible, according to him. “I don’t think it is the intention of the petitioners, but it is exactly what Trump intends with his levies. And it leads to the same concerns: who is going to do the work here? Who is going to work in the fields? Making the leis?”
‘If we don’t import anything, we will last a week’
The lei workshops in Chinatown only meet a very small part of the demand, he emphasizes. “And you mainly see old people there. I don’t think young people want to do this work.” He suspects that the bill mainly stems from an aversion to tourists who walk around en masse with Thai orchid leis in Hawaii. “The catering industry uses them a lot. I think the commercialization irritates the initiators.”
Debate about feasibility is also raging in the State Capitol. It is not certain whether the bill will pass. It is clear that, if the bill were to fail, a working group would have to investigate what options there are to support Hawaiian flower culture.
In his office, overlooking the green hills of the island of Oahu, Kila says he has no problem with tourists wearing leis. “I see a lot of appreciation for the art form in them.” Requiring only government services to buy ‘Hawaiian’ is “a fair middle ground”, he believes. “If we use public dollars, we must also use them in our own economy.”
In Cindy’s Lei Shoppe, young seller Alex Lau – who hardly makes leis himself – also has doubts. “A large number of our suppliers are people who grow flowers in their backyard. But you often see that the next generation does not continue with it.” It’s also a lot of work. “Water, spray, fertilize every day. Otherwise the plants will die.”
Ultimately, the flowers are just like the food in Hawaii, he says. “If we don’t import anything, we can last a week.”
