From East to West, Everything Fly is Born in The Hood
La Esquina is our monthly column focusing on all things Latinx. Written by LNL contributors, La Esquina will focus on the various things that matter to us, from cultural moments to current events, we’re here, let’s talk about. Meet us en la esquina! This month Jenny Motaval breaks down how regional fashion choices tell stories about Latinx identity.
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My 13th birthday was a special one. My family stood over me excitedly, staring as I undid the white ribbon that held a beautifully wrapped pink gift box together. And there it was: a gold chunky bamboo style mini hoop with Jennifer stamped in cursive. Behold, my first nameplate earrings!
Before then, I dreamt of the day I would get my hoops. As a daughter of strict immigrants, giant hoops was a luxury I would be allowed to wear after my Quince or Sweet 16, a coming of age statement that I would one day flaunt. These, in particular, were a smaller size. For others, it could have felt like a tease, but I was content. I proudly wore it at my Catholic elementary school. We often would get into trouble for wearing hoops larger than a quarter— one of the many elitist discrimination towards Black and Brown students that took place, banning anything considered “urban” or “messy” like natural hair and acrylic nails. This pair was just the right size, and soon after, other female students began to show up with the miniature size statement hoop to school.
For Black and Brown communities, owning and being proud of your name is a revolutionary act. Arising as the communities explored its identity, the intersection is significant. It ultimately reflected an experience with a history of oppression erased in beauty and media. Due to bias, stereotyping, and pre-judgments, having a unique name like Rosa, Ashanti, Monique, or Marisol can have a massive influence on one's life experience and as a result those with “ethnic” names are more likely to be discriminated against. For example, companies are more than twice as likely to callback minorities with “whiten” names for a job interview. While European immigrants in the past assimilated to names that catered to American culture, Black Americans and Latinx families embraced non-anglo names to remain connected to their roots.
In the East coast, it was the burgeoning hip hop culture in the late 70s and 80s that became the trending hub, embracing and encouraging outlandish unique pieces—the nameplate and extravagant gold jewelry being a trend of many. “NYC is the fashion of the world and in my opinion it wouldn't be the fashion capital without streetwear which all originates from Black and Brown communities,” shares Alisa Allen, Nike Brand EKIN for the East Coast. As an EKIN (Nike spelled backwards) she delivers key insights to the company and consumers while connecting with NYC communities.“The list of staples that resonate with NYC can go on and on. From white on white up (Air Force 1), a classic Yankee fitted grey brim no black nasties, or fresh butta Timbs,” she added.
“My style is what I like to call a tomboy chic. I love to be comfortable and confident at the same time. A lot of my fashion sense comes from my roots of playing basketball, always in loose fitting relaxed pieces and sneakers,” she said. In inner cities throughout the East Coast, comfortability plays a huge role in athleisure and street wear. “There are times where I want to get cute and throw a dress on or a skirt but, I still add that chill vibe into the fit whether that's throwing a fitted on or obviously a pair of kicks. I think I only own three pairs of heels and I couldn't be happier, I am for sure the girl who pulls up to the function in some kicks but still pulled off a look,” she added.
The trends from its inception, were born in impoverished neighborhoods. The youth took pride in being distinct, uniquely standing out, and looking fresh. This took place on a national level. In the West Coast Chicano and African American communities coexisting throughout every block as LA singer and Bella Doña co-owner LaLa Romero explained to me as she recalled growing up.“Thrifting helps you carve out a unique one of a kind style and stand out. My personal style has always been thrift meets my neighborhood classics,” she said. “I was a thrift shop kid, out of necessity, but quickly learned that there is so much beauty in our struggles. Growing up broke made me creative with my fits; it also made me appreciate my shit & take care of it. I still have sneakers in their boxes since High School.”
Founded in 2013, Bella Doña has become more than a brand, created with the intent of creating a space for the Chicano narrative in media and fashion, one that's shadowed by the gang-related activity that we so often see represented. In pursuing these efforts, It's become a community served by clothing and styles past down by generations. While highlighting their followers, they infuse pinup and Pachuca styles—the Mexican American women that wore zuit suits in the 1940's— like the voluminous hair and sharp iconic eye wings, which led to the founding of their cosmetic line Sweet Street . The Chicana owners also use their platform as a tool to empower; on the site, you will find halter crop tops with phrases like "Loca Pero Cute" to feminist quotes like "Ni Santas, Ni Putas, Solo Mujeres."
“The LA uniform is a fresh pair of Chucks or Cortez, an LA Dodgers fitted, a crisp pro club T-shirt out the Swapmeet,” she shared, adding the beauty trends that still holds weight today: “Dark lip liner with a neutral lip and poppin gloss, winged eyeliner, gold jewelry, and nail art.”
Last year, I covered the brand for People Chica and something LaLa and Co-owner Natalia Durazo mentioned stuck with me: "There is so much beauty and so much flyness in the neighborhood, and the neighborhood is never really properly credited for its contribution to the world,” said LaLa. Over the years, styles like acrylic nails, nameplates, gold jewelry and sneaker culture have continuously been used to discriminate and stereotype la comunidad while simultaneously burrowed in high fashion and media. “Growing up wearing the big hoops, people identified that as low class,” expressed Natalia Durazo, LaLa’s partner in crime and owner of Honey B Gold. “You would hear things like, ‘That's some hood shit.' Something so valuable and precious to us also gave us a bad look.”
For LaLa and Alisa, those around them, including her parents held weight in her influence too: "I grew up seeing my dad in Pendleton’s & red wing boots; these are still staples. I saw the older homegirls on my block in all airbrush everything & Betty Boop. Can’t forget nameplates and long-ass acrylic nails, these things ain’t never going nowhere." Similarly, Alisa points to her mother as her 90s drip for inspiration. “I love looking through my mother's photo albums to see what her style was when she was my age and getting some inspiration there. I would have to say for sure the gold jewelry and sneakers being her hero pieces of her fit is something that I emulate in my own style today.”
Archival Instagram is playing a major role in remembering our roots, honoring the trends we still embrace today and showcases the historical context behind many Latinx communities. Documenting The NamePlate celebrates the nameplate culture and educates on the history and impact of the beloved statement. Created by Marcel Rosa-Salas, Kyle Richardson and Isabel Flower, the extensive archival project included live events crafted to document and photograph anyone with their plates and personal history.
Through images from the past, these pages are reclaiming a space for nuanced and complex Latinx stories. Guadalupe Rosales created one of the platforms for these digitally-based archives in 2015. Veteranas y Rucas illustrates the Los Angeles Chicana youth culture in the 1980s and ‘90s. Inspired by Rosales’s work, Djali Brown-Cepeda founded Nuevayorkinos in 2019 to highlight East Coast stories. Centering Black Latino voices and experiences that may not be the higher population in the West Coast, the page educates the masses on the Afro-Caribbean experience as well.
As we continue to unpack, create space and learn from one another, La Nueva Link felt it was only right to create an event highlighting the two talented Latinx curators. Don’t miss the candid convo between Djali and Guadalupe, where they’ll discuss what it means to grow up in New York and California, and the importance in documenting their culture, history, and everything in between.