It Was Never About the Crown

Always About the Culture and Craft

Crafted in Culture: The Story Behind Miss Hibiscus’ Winning Traditional Attire

A girl makes the dress — not the other way around.

The dress that UKUU created for Miss NFA, Rhyelle Aisea, may have won the Hibiscus Festival’s Traditional Attire category, but the goal was always bigger than a prize. Our vision from the beginning was to honour Rotuman women by promoting their weaving prowess.

From the outset, the design concept was clear: a simple silhouette to accentuate Rhyelle’s petite body frame. The challenge? How to portray that exceptional craftsmanship through design — weaving skills that are culturally unique and deeply tied to identity. Rotuman Apei (fine mats) are made from a different species of pandanus than those used by iTaukei Fijian women. The trick was not just showcasing that distinction — but elevating it.

When I reached out to Rhyelle’s family, starting with her wonderful mother, Zinny, and father, Michael, they said no one had ever created an Apei into a woman’s risqué corset. To their credit, they placed great trust in our design vision.

Two weeks later, we had a magnificent work of art, woven lovingly by Rhyelle’s aunt, a woman who played the role of second mother to Rhyelle. In just over a week, Sara Vafoou, Rinny Aisea and the tribe of women (see credits) increased the corset to include a modernised version of a Taufua, a finely woven waistband that further highlights the cultural pride and artistic strength of Rotuman women.

The initial design process took me deep into research — a crash course in the customary practices of Rotuma. What do Rotumans hold dear? How do their cultural expressions contrast with those of Fiji, Samoa, and Tonga? It was humbling and inspiring. While I’ve been trained in indigenous Fijian traditional crafts all my life, I was stunned at how little I knew about the beautiful handicrafts of Rotuman women.

The goal wasn’t to win. In pageants, I always aim for consistency across categories — that’s where success lies. But with Traditional Attire, the real goal was to educate Fiji about Rotuma’s rich cultural heritage — especially that of its women. Since 1881, Rotuma has been a dependency of Fiji, yet it often feels like a forgotten part of our national story, illustrated by public objections which followed the win.

At one point, the bottom skirt was going to feature masi bola from Cakaudrove — a nod to Rhyelle’s Fijian lineage and to Rotuma’s ties to Fiji. But the masi I sourced wasn’t authentic to the story — it carried motifs from other provinces.I’m someone who believes cultural motifs must tell the right story. I won’t even wear the popular sisi ni Lakeba that is commonly used across Fiji, and have always made my salusalus myself, the way my mother and grandmother taught me to make garlands (or any other traditional outfit). Cultural items and motifs must tell the story of the vanua and its people – otherwise it’s performative, at least that’s how I felt.

So we pivoted — back to basics. We used plain white masi and crafted a skirt that was meant to resemble a peacock tail… but by show day, something was missing. It lacked oomph. Seven hours before the show, I was staring at it with disdain.

And then I saw it — the original Taufua with red trimmings that had been hanging in my home since Rhyelle’s parents brought it when she moved in two weeks prior. That red? It grounded me. It reminded me of the message: Brilliant NFA Red.

Just the night before, Rhyelle had won the Talent Category wearing a borrowed red feather accessory made of Armea bird feathers, loaned by Rako Pasefika, as she danced to their song, “Mamanu”—about the Armea. This group doesn’t just lend items — they teach you their cultural significance. I had two powerful telephone sessions with Rako founder Letila Mitchell and performing artist Zelda Rafai and realised how spiritually significant the Armea bird is to Rotuman wayfinding and women’s crafts. Its brilliant red feathers weren’t just a visual match — they were a cultural anchor.

So that was it: the outfit became a full-blown ode to women, to nature, to totemic symbolism. Thankfully, the team behind all of our storytelling elements of the week, two journalists turned pageant enthusiasts (we see pageants as PR initiatives), had already crafted a storyline for the outfit that focused on the women but stayed true to the National Fire Authority message about building strong resilient communities. Only now, we would go further to showcase the culture and animals we are custodians of.

When we found out after research the links between the Armea, endemic to Rotuma and used to make sacred beauty, we had our key. The Armea breathed life into the design in a way none of us expected.

When I told my assistant — my child — about the last-minute change at 10am on show day, she groaned, “Mum, why are you so extra? Our outfit is ready!” But she listens to me. She had no choice.

Thirty cans of red paint, stencils borrowed from the masi maker whose prints I had rejected, and every feather we could find later — the vision came alive. It was no longer just a costume. It was a celebration of Indigenous womanhood and its inextricable link to land and legacy. (That last bit was inspired by my brother’s PhD thesis, which I read in 2017 — the ideas stayed with me.)

This design didn’t just complement Rhyelle’s work on stage — it was the work. It echoed her mission to place the NFA and resilience-building at the centre of every appearance. The message was aligned. My other creative hands — Su, Josie, and Kiti — didn’t always understand what I was going for, but they trusted me. Many exasperated sighs later, we were ready.

When we added the final touch backstage— her Aunty Sara’s tefui — we knew we had done something powerful.

But the real magic? It was always in Rhyelle. Part of what captivated us about the new Miss Hibiscus is her grounding in culture and tradition. Her pride in her cultural identity lit up the design.

When encouraged to bring all of Rotuma onto that stage, it was seen in her movements, in her initial stern look almost telling us all to listen to her story. In her graceful movements and her smile, her strength captivated the hundreds who watched. She danced with grace while telling us of the women, the weaving, the bird and the mana of her people.

She cheehoo’d. She danced. She honoured the Armea bird to the haunting call of Mamanu by Rako. And amidst the cheers, the tears came.

That night, I cried not for the win — but because our team had helped make visible a people often left behind. A people, we later saw in the multitude of Facebook posts, are almost a forgotten part of indigenous Fiji. We could not have that.

The village:

• Sara Winnie Vafoou Vaurasi – Weaver & dressmaker of the Apei corset and dress
• Rosarine Fonmoa – Concept originator for the modernised Taufua waistband
• Luisa Maria – Elderly matriarch (wife of Gagaj Mou) who harvested and processed the sa’aga (pandanus) leaves
• Filipa Maria – Assisted in leaf processing
• Gagaj Rafai – Facilitated resource access from Rotuma
• Mere Taito & Tivao Taito – Assisted with pandanus leaf farming and gathering
• Jacinta Fesaitu, Mareta Fesaitu & Kimberly Fesaitu – Supported the preparation and final assembly of the attire
• Lusia Managreve – Crafted the “jio” (tefui fringes) and contributed to cultural authenticity
• Elenoa Baselala, Filipe Naigulevu: Storytelling and editorial direction
• Letila Mitchell – Cultural advisor and founder of Rako Pasefika and advisor on Armea bird cultural significance
• Lice Movono – Lead designer and creative director (UKUU)
• Bee, Susana, Josie, Makiti & Esther – Final finishers and support team in dress completion