Under the same sun| | Maïté

Editorials

Some women wear the sun like a jewel on their skin.
Maïthé is one of them.
She comes from Martinique, an island where mornings smell like mango and sea breeze. Her beauty isn’t an artifice — it’s a memory. The memory of women combing their hair by an open window, the light sliding across their cheeks.
Her laughter carries far, as if it came from a place where the sea never judges.
When she speaks of beauty, she speaks of connection — between her mother, her grandmother, the hibiscus flowers, the heat, and that feeling of being fully alive, skin and soul.

Under the same sun that warms Bali, Maïthé reminds us that beauty is a story of islands — of transmission, and of shared light.

 


1. When you close your eyes and think of your skin — what it’s been through: the sun, the sea, the wind — what do you feel?

I feel life. My skin is like a living memory; it keeps the scent of the ocean, the warmth of the sun, the softness of tropical rain. It has been caressed, marked, and nourished by nature. Every grain of salt, every ray of light has shaped a part of me. My skin is my direct connection to the Earth, the sea, everything around me.

 


2. Martinique watched you grow up. What has it left on your face, in the way you are a woman?

Martinique taught me quiet strength. It gave me the softness of the wind, the power of the volcano, the sensuality of flowers, and the freedom of the sea. Being a woman there means being many things at once — strong and gentle, wild and refined. My island shaped how I love, how I walk, how I connect to the world.

 


3. In your relationship with beauty, what truly matters to you ?

Authenticity. Beauty isn’t about makeup or perfection — it’s about the light you carry when you truly love yourself. To me, beauty is a vibration: peace within, acceptance, respect. It’s also the connection to nature, to what’s pure and alive.

 


4. If you could give your childhood a scent — one that still follows you today — what would it be?

Warm sand mixed with fresh coconut and tiare flowers. (I’ve always had Monoi oil with me.) A scent of sunshine, innocence, and freedom. It brings me back to my roots, to my grandmother, to that gentle tenderness found in simple things.

 


5. What do you find beautiful and true in the women of your island?

Their authenticity. Their way of facing life with dignity, even when it’s hard. Their laughter, their honest eyes, their instinctive bond with nature. The women of my island are everyday goddesses — they nurture, they heal, they dance, they radiate effortlessly.

 


6. People say Caribbean women have beauty secrets passed down from mother to daughter. What are yours?

Oil. Always oil. Coconut, hibiscus, avocado… My grandmother used to say: “Skin is like the earth — if you feed it with good things, it will return the favor.”
And the rituals: massage, breath, listening to your body, thanking nature. Beauty is an offering — a sacred act.

 


7. The sun connects all tropical women — from Bali to Martinique. Do you think there’s a shared beauty, something in the light itself?

Yes. I believe we all carry an inner light that answers the sun. That warmth, that vital energy, that natural sensuality… The sun awakens something deeply feminine in us. It’s not only light from the outside — it’s one that shines through us.

 


8. And you, Maïthé — under that same sun — how did you learn to love your reflection?

I learned to love myself by learning to look at myself differently. Not through the eyes of judgment, but with gratitude. My reflection tells the story of my life — my emotions, my rebirths. To love my reflection is to honor the woman I’m becoming, day after day, between sea and light.

 


 

The sea connects, the light tells the story 

That’s Connecting islands.

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