Tree of Life
Coconut weaver and cultural keeper Leilani Pearson bridges the traditions of Tahiti and Maui.
BY IJfke Ridgley
Leilani Pearson may be known on Maui for the coconut hats she weaves, but it is her own story that weaves together family, history, and culture from different parts of Polynesia.
Pearson was fortunate to have an idyllic childhood raised on a lagoon in Bora Bora, where her father ran a fishing charter business for luxury hotels. For her, the ocean was her backyard. Later in her twenties, while working in Africa as a television producer for Survivor, she met her Hawai‘i-born husband. After living together in Tahiti, they decided to move to Maui to help care for his elderly grandparents on their property in Ha‘ikū. It was here that Pearson started a gardenia farm, propagating plants from a couple of gardenia bushes growing on the property. As full-time caregivers working from home, Pearson decided to start a small business selling the flowers at local farmers' markets.
As the flower business grew, she began making lei and weaving pāpale (coconut hats), both skills she learned in her childhood in Tahiti. “Growing up there, weaving coconut leaves was something I saw often and learned informally,” says Pearson. “Being able to share that knowledge here in Hawai‘i feels like a way of keeping those island traditions alive.”
Customers were immediately drawn to the hats, excited and curious about them, and how they themselves could learn to make one. Pearson soon started hosting workshops on how to make various kinds of lei and wreaths, but making the pāpale is by far the most popular craft she teaches. “People love the workshops because they get to learn the art of coconut weaving and go home with something they actually made with their own hands,” she says. “My favorite moment is when someone finishes their hat and realizes they just created something useful.”
While Pearson’s hats are a work of art, they are also incredibly practical for island life — from Tahiti to Hawai‘i and beyond. Durable and waterproof, they can be worn in the rain or the surf, or woven with an extra-wide brim for sun protection while farming or gardening. Locals especially love the open-top design, where women can wear their hair in a “tita bun” through the top.
Regular monthly workshops are held at Friends and Faire in Wailuku, and occasional pop-ups are held at boutiques and community spaces. Students learn the technique of weaving coconut leaves, but to Pearson, the lesson is deeper than that. The coconut tree has always been central to life in Polynesia — often called the “Tree of Life” because the entire tree, not just the coconut, supports a way of life. People use the leaves to build roofs, walls, baskets, bowls, nets, and hats; the tree provides shelter, tools, and everyday objects.
“Weaving coconut leaves feels like a quiet conversation with nature. Your hands slow down, and you start paying attention to the material,” she explains. “These kinds of skills were once part of everyday island life. Sharing them feels like a small way of helping keep them alive.”
Beyond lei making, weaving, and flower farming, Pearson also shares other aspects of Tahitian culture with her Hawai‘i community. A few times a year, she sells Tahitian-style mu‘umu‘u (traditional Polynesian dress) and woven lauhala (pandanus) hats, décor, and accessories at pop-up markets around Maui, and she has started making jewelry from Tahitian pearls. She is also working on launching a small skincare line made with Tamanu oil from Rangiroa, combined with the scent of gardenia flowers from her farm — flowers that would otherwise go to waste — using traditional monoi (Tahitian coconut oil) methods.
“In a way, all of these projects connect back to the same inspiration,” reflects Pearson. “Working with natural materials from Polynesia and finding ways to share them through craft — whether that’s weaving, flowers, plants, oils, or pearls.”
Follow Leilani on Instagram: @hakuleilani