By Kaiulani Flores
Many artists and musicians start their training at an early age. For me, growing up on Maui, my passion was natural hair braiding.
I began braiding hair when I was five years old, practicing French braids on my dad. As I got older, I experimented with new styles, using my mom, siblings, cousins, and friends as my practice models. Without YouTube tutorials to guide me, I turned to hair magazines, which I convinced my parents to buy for me. These magazines became my study guides, and I taught myself every style I saw.
Now, my skills and the quality of my work speak for themselves. The people who seek out my services don’t care that I’m self-taught. Yet, the Hawaii Board of Barbering and Cosmetology doesn’t allow me to legally charge for braiding. If I earn even a single dollar, I risk facing fines or even jail time.
To work legally as a braider, Hawaii requires me to complete 1,250 hours of training at a state-approved hairdressing school. On Maui, the only available program costs nearly $17,000, and the curriculum focuses on cutting, coloring, chemical treatments, and other services unrelated to braiding.
Another option is to earn a full cosmetology license, but this would require even more time and money while covering topics like makeup, nails, and facials—none of which are relevant to my work as a braider.
Even after completing the training, I would need to pass two state licensing exams that don’t include any questions about braiding. Forcing braiders to jump through these hoops is like requiring an aspiring mechanic to graduate from pilot school before being allowed to fix cars. The license would mean nothing to my clients.
This level of regulation is unusual. Many professionals—musicians, photographers, chefs, dog trainers, and consultants—can accept payment for their skills without excessive restrictions.
Even occupations that are regulated aren’t held to the same unreasonable standards. When I worked as a tattooist and permanent makeup artist, I completed the required certifications in less than a week. Some people complete the online coursework in as little as 75 minutes and are cleared to perform invasive cosmetic procedures within a day.
Emergency medical technicians (EMTs), who assist in life-and-death situations, need only 150 hours of classroom training to get licensed. Yet Hawaii requires braiders—who don’t use scissors, heat, or chemicals—to complete more than eight times that amount of schooling.
These unnecessary barriers hurt workers like me and stifle small businesses, which are the backbone of Hawaii’s economy. Instead of protecting public safety, these regulations force braiders into the shadows. I’ve seen it happen: braiders who move to Hawaii often work without licenses, taking on clients quietly to avoid detection.
I don’t want to live like that. As someone born and raised in Hawaii, I want to follow the law while earning an honest living. Lawmakers in Honolulu could make this possible during the 2025 legislative session by removing the beauty school mandate for braiders.
Other states have already shown that reform works. Thirty-four states, including California, Florida, and Texas, have eliminated licensing requirements for braiders, and none have reported any issues. The Institute for Justice, a nonprofit law firm, even provides model legislation that Hawaii could use to create similar laws.
Exempting braiders from licensing would be an important first step. It would allow us to earn a living openly, free from fear of fines or legal trouble. For me, it would mean finally being able to relax and enjoy the craft I fell in love with as a child braiding my dad’s hair.
Kaiulani Flores is a natural hair braider in Kihei, Maui.