Back in 2021 we received an email from our now friend Venus (Carla) about an order that was never received. We were embarrassed about the error and did everything we could to make up for it. Fortunately, Venus was very forgiving and this hiccup opened up the opportunity for us to get to know her more and make her some amazing statement pieces.
The poetic ode she shares with us is about how we all have a choice on how we want to represent ourselves in the world.
The sum of diversity is equal parts expression, individuality, having strong foundations of self and appreciation of your roots. My earliest memories consist of having an instinct to protect and embrace who I am, what I love and where I come from. The neat definition of Salvadoreañx-American as my nationality was never a clear definition for me. I concluded, like many first-generation American born children, that I am from here and from there, de aquí y de allá. I embrace this in between as this realization is at the crux of my identity. I continue to add to myself all the variety that life has to offer. The inevitability of me being an artist comes with it, a mercurial style; a style that I believe to be dramatic and elegant. You can feel the flair in my artwork, in my dancing, my writing and in my clothing. I proudly and humbly embrace my culture and creativity as both attributes contribute to how I choose to represent myself to the world.
I am a born and raised San Franciscan by courageous immigrant parents. I have been fortunate enough to have been exposed to many different people from all walks of life. My own personal life is as colorful as the murals that line the alleyways of the Mission District (the cultural Latinx district of San Francisco). The murals there always seem to magically appear overnight and like most beautiful things, there is often a pair of immigrant hands that are behind it. I would watch people of color in my neighborhood wear all kinds of different clothes for different occasions.
I WEAR MY CLOTHES AS A HOMAGE TO MY BIRTHPLACE
In elementary school, I was encouraged to join a West African dance group and little did I know how much of an impact this would have on me. The time came for a performance and I was dressed in a gorgeous Dashiki kaftan with a gigantic bow to match. As the African drums kept the rhythm and I danced with the women around me, I felt the spiritual significance of wearing the Dashiki dress and I have since adored all forms of dress. I wear my clothes as an homage to my birthplace and with Descalza’s scintillating designs, I finally feel as if I have a direct line to my heritage and I take these clothes and these feelings with me.
My sister is the one who originally sent me an unforgettable post from an account that she was following on social media. This post led me to Descalza’s website. My eyes sparkled! I told myself that I wanted that Lucero Voluminous High-Low Skirt and I never looked back. The rest of the clothing collection continued to fill my imagination (and my closet). I feel as if Caro and her team and her vendors are as magical as the threads that I don with the utmost love.
I CARRY THE SPIRIT OF THE PEOPLE WHO CONTINUE TO THRIVE THROUGH CREATIVITY
No matter what the occasion: a party, a ceremony, concert, performance, vacation—I choose to be seen in these clothes. These occasions are where I feel as if I could add to the diversity in the room. I have an opportunity to have conversations with people that could potentially enrich and embellish someone’s understanding of the rest of the world. Too often are most Latinx people lumped into categories that abridges entire histories, heritages and cultures. As an artist, my work transcends the mediums and they are the embodiment of my living individual self. I feel as if I carry the spirit of a people that continue to thrive through creativity. It is through living that I know that I will be seen and most likely in the Sussoni Kimono Cardigan dancing the night away.
If you're interested in a custom Lucero skirt please visit this link or email us at hola@descalza.co.
When we met Stacy, we immediately saw her beauty exude through her confidence and her passion for her community. What we didn't see was the internal challenge she was facing with celebrating her Domincana roots on the outside.The story she shares with us is about how to use your wardrobe as a powerful celebration of your Latinidad and personal empowerment.
Fashion has always been complicated for me. As a Latina, it's more than just clothes. It’s tied to identity, culture, and the journey of figuring out where I belong. My relationship with fashion hasn’t been a seamless one. Instead, its been messy, full of insecurities, and, at times, a reflection of my attempts to fit into spaces where I wasn’t sure I was welcome.
As I've grown and matured, I've come to understand that fashion is more than just the clothes we wear or the latest trends. It's a reflection of our inner selves, a way to express how we see ourselves and how we want to be seen by others. It can also serve as a shield, hiding our vulnerabilities and insecurities. But for me, my wardrobe has been a journey of growth - a tangible representation of my struggles, self-discovery, and ultimate empowerment. Fashion has become a powerful tool for me to reclaim my cultural identity and boldly embrace my Latina heritage. Each piece tells a story, a chapter in my life filled with strength, resilience, and pride.
BREAKING FREE OF USING FASHION AS A SHIELD
Growing up in the 90s, I was surrounded by fashion trends that now make me cringe, but at the time, they felt like the only roadmap to fitting in. The 'heroin chic' aesthetic dominated. A look defined by stick-thin frames, pale complexions, and a kind of detached coolness I could never embody. As a Dominicana with curves, I knew I would never fit into that ideal. My body, with its curves and muscles from sports, was a far cry from what the magazines celebrated.
Instead of embracing the beauty of my curves, I felt trapped by them. I never saw bodies like mine celebrated in mainstream media, and I struggled to love what I saw in the mirror. Fashion became my shield, a way to cover my insecurities. I didn’t use clothes to express myself or celebrate who I was. Instead, I used them to hide. Each outfit was carefully chosen to blend in, to avoid standing out, and to protect myself from judgment. In doing so, I buried not just my insecurities but also my authentic self.
INHERITING BOLDNESS: A LEGACY OF STYLE
My mother has always been a force of nature. She carried herself with the bold, unapologetic style of a true Dominicana, her confidence woven into every stitch of her wardrobe. As a young woman, she worked in the House of Oscar de la Renta, and though her time there was brief, it left an indelible mark on her. Even today, her outfits tell a story of vibrant colors, flowing fabrics, and a flair that refuses to be ignored. Her Latinidad shines through, no matter what.
In contrast, my wardrobe told a very different story. While my mom embraced our culture, I spent most of my life trying to blend in. Growing up in an interracial family in the South, survival often meant assimilation. My parents’ marriage was already a challenge to the status quo in the 80s, and my father’s family never fully accepted it—or us. That rejection taught me early on that being different came with consequences. To navigate those waters, I chose fashion that would let me fade into the background rather than stand out. Neutral tones and modest silhouettes from places like Banana Republic didn’t draw attention. It became my armor.
My mother never let go of her Latinidad, no matter the pressures to conform, and I admired her for it. But I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. For me, clothing wasn’t a celebration of identity, it was a tool to survive, to assimilate, to avoid rejection. While my mother’s wardrobe was a declaration of pride, mine was a silent plea for acceptance.
THE HIDDEN COST OF CONFORMITY
As I stepped into the culture of corporate America, I quickly learned that conformity wasn't just encouraged, it was essential. My wardrobe transformed into a meticulously curated collection of muted tones and structured blazers, with simple ensembles that exuded an air of professionalism while concealing any trace of my true self. The clothes were like armor, shielding me from standing out in a sea of white men who didn't understand or share my culture and experiences. My Dominican heritage, my curves, my vibrant personality (most of the time). All of it remained hidden behind this "whitewashed" facade, as if it didn't belong in the corporate world. But deep down, I knew that sacrificing my identity was a small price to pay for success in this cutthroat environment.
But sometimes, who you are slips out, even when you’re trying to hide it. I’ll never forget a work trip to Barcelona where I found myself sitting at a table full of executives. They struggled to communicate with the wait staff, fumbling over basic phrases, while I sat there, watching in frustration. Finally, I stepped in, ordering for the entire table in Spanish. The wait staff’s relief was palpable, but the shock on my coworkers’ faces was even more striking. "I had no idea…" one of them said, as if I had been keeping a secret. In truth, I had.
For years, I carefully curated my wardrobe to be "white enough", hoping it would act as a shield from the world. But the weight of constantly hiding my Latinidad, of erasing parts of myself to fit in, took a heavy toll on my emotional well-being. Each time I suppressed my culture and identity, it felt like losing a vital part of myself. Despite trying to convince myself that it was just clothing, deep down I knew it was more than that. It was sacrificing my authenticity and heritage for the sake of acceptance from people who never truly saw me. Now, looking back, I can see the true cost of conformity was far greater than I ever could have imagined.
CONFESSIONS OF A BLACK WARDROBE
My closet is a sea of beautiful black. Tight-fitting dresses, smart dark blouses, and dark academia structured pants. Inspired by my love for Morticia and Wednesday Addams (a Latina too) and the unapologetic edge of Christina Aguilera in her “Stripped” era. There’s something comforting about black. It’s classic, mysterious, and effortless. Over time, this aesthetic became my signature, a reflection of the witchy, moody vibe I’ve always admired. But as much as I love it, there’s always been a part of me that feels like something is missing.
The truth is, my all-black wardrobe doesn’t always feel like it tells my full story. As I’ve connected more deeply with my cultura, I’ve struggled to reconcile my love for dark, dramatic fashion with the vibrancy of my Latinidad. Where were the bold colors, the intricate patterns, the rich textures that reflect the spirit of my ancestors? My Taino roots, my African heritage, and the rhythm of the Dominican Republic. Their stories felt absent when I looked in the mirror.
I began to feel a pull to balance these two sides of myself: the moody, witchy aesthetic that I love and the vibrant, joyful spirit of my cultura. I wanted my wardrobe to carry the strength and pride of my Taino and African ancestors, to embody the resilience and beauty they passed down to me. Fashion, I realized, isn’t just about what looks good—it’s about what feels true. And I was ready to start building a wardrobe that embraced both my personal style and my heritage.
REDISCOVERING MY ROOTS THROUGH COMMUNITY
Rediscovering my Latinidad has been an ongoing journey, and like most transformative experiences, it began with a conversation. I met Carolina, the founder of Descalza, a fashion brand rooted in culture and community, and we instantly connected. Carolina’s passion for creating clothes that tell the stories of Latin America resonated deeply with me. She wasn’t just designing clothes; she was weaving identity, pride, and resilience into every piece.
As I talked to others in Latinas in Tech, I realized I wasn’t alone in my experience of whitewashing my wardrobe to fit in. So many Latinas I’ve met have felt the same pressure—to tone down our vibrancy, to make ourselves more palatable in corporate spaces, to blend in just enough to be accepted. But like me, they were tired of it. There was a growing desire to reclaim our cultural identity and to reflect it not just in words or actions, but in how we showed up every day—even in our clothes.
In a moment of inspiration, I realized that we could bring Carolina's vision to the wider community. We joined forces and organized a Descalza workshop with the goal of creating a professional wardrobe that incorporated elements of our Latine culture. It wasn't about abandoning professionalism, but rather redefining it to include our heritage. The workshop was incredibly popular, bringing together individuals who, like me, were tired of conforming to societal norms and were ready to let their cultura shine in their daily lives. Seeing others proudly embrace their roots and infuse them into their fashion choices was a powerful reminder that clothing is more than just fabric – it's an expression of our unique identities.
A FASHION TRANSFORMATION
A few months after organizing the Descalza workshop, I found myself staring at my own closet, feeling stuck. While I had encouraged others to embrace their cultura through fashion, I still wasn’t sure how to do it for myself. My wardrobe of black dresses and neutral staples felt safe, but it didn’t feel me. At least, not the me I was trying to grow into. So, I did something I’d never done before: I called Carolina and asked for help.
Carolina showed up with her signature warmth and a collection of pieces from Descalza that reflected her love for bold, cultural designs. We went through my closet together, piece by piece, and she showed me how to incorporate colors and patterns that celebrated my roots without abandoning my personal style. It wasn’t about a complete overhaul—it was about building a bridge between who I was and who I wanted to be.
She gave me tips on creating a look that felt both polished and authentic: start with a versatile base piece, like a classic blazer or dress, and layer in accessories or accents that pop—like a bright scarf, statement earrings, or a skirt with a traditional print. She also emphasized that the key wasn’t to mimic someone else’s style but to curate looks that made me feel confident and powerful.
By the end of the session, my closet wasn’t just a collection of clothes anymore, it was a reflection of my identity. I had a few new pieces, yes, but more importantly, I had a renewed excitement for upcoming events and conferences. For the first time in years, I felt like the image in the mirror was someone I wanted the world to see: a Dominicana who is proud of her culture, unapologetically herself, and ready to take on any room she walked into.
Fashion is more than just a fleeting trend or surface-level appearance. It is a mirror that reflects our inner selves and the transformation we undergo as individuals. For me, it has been a journey of shedding insecurities and embracing my roots, leading to the discovery of the empowering act of authenticity. My wardrobe has evolved right alongside me, progressing from a protective shield of neutral clothing to a vibrant celebration of my cultural heritage and unique individuality. Each article I carefully choose to wear now carries with it a personal narrative - not just a reflection of my style, but a testament to my growth and evolution as a person.
This evolution wouldn’t have been possible without the support of my community. Connecting with others who share your culture and values can be a transformative experience, especially when it comes to something as personal as fashion. It was through conversations with other Latinas, through workshops with Carolina at Descalza, and through moments of reflection on my own history that I found the courage to embrace my Latinidad fully, even in spaces that once felt unwelcoming.
So, if you’re feeling stuck when you look at your closet, or if your wardrobe doesn’t reflect the person you see yourself becoming, don’t despair. Reach out to your community, connect with your cultural roots, and use fashion as a tool for self-discovery and empowerment. Small businesses like Descalza are doing incredible work to preserve and celebrate our cultura through clothing. Supporting organizations like this means investing in more than just a garment. It means investing in a story, in tradition, and in yourself. Fashion is personal, and it’s powerful. Use it to tell your story.
TRANSFORMING IDENTITY THROUGH STYLE
Fashion has been a surprising ally in my journey to embrace my authentic self and my cultural identity. What once felt like a burden (a tool for hiding and conforming) has become a way to celebrate who I truly am. Through the colors, patterns, and stories woven into my wardrobe, I’ve found a way to honor my roots, a shared diaspora, and show up in the world unapologetically as a proud Dominicana.
Fashion isn’t just about what we wear; it’s about how we carry ourselves, how we connect with our past, and how we step into our future. It’s a tool for empowerment, a canvas for cultural pride, and a reminder that we don’t have to hide who we are to fit into spaces. We have the power to redefine those spaces and to lead with our truest selves. One outfit, one step, and one bold choice at a time.
If you're interested in creating a professional wardrobe that embraces your roots click on this link to learn more or email us at hola@descalza.co.
Back in 2022, our good friend and neighbor Cecilia Polanco reached out to us about creating a custom piece they wanted to wear at the Supreme Court. Immediately, we thought about using our indigo from El Salvador. Our indigo has preserved through a Civil War, natural disasters, and much more. It has shown resilience and hope for our people just like Cecilia and the work they do in education equity.
The story they share with us is about leveraging our identity as power to show up as our unapologetic selves.
As a little person, my family struggled to put me in dresses for my birthday parties because I wanted to run, crawl, and get dirty playing and having fun. I fussed over tags and stitching that irritated my skin and overstimulated my senses. I’d cry from the discomfort and leave behind a trail of clothing as I stripped down to freedom!
Nowadays you’ll still find me trading appearance for comfort on most days. Soft and flowy clothing that feels good on my skin, warm and flex fitting pieces that allow for rest, movement, stretching and random dancing! While as a homebody my clothing choices aren’t for viewing for the general public, when it comes to being in the spotlight, standing for an issue that’s important to me, and taking up space when it comes to being an activist, how I chose to show up in a “professional” settings is part of shifting narratives around power and integrating ways I practice physical and spiritual protection.
AN IDENTITY I WALK IN PROUDLY AND CANNOT HIDE
When I learned I would have an opportunity to be present at the Supreme Court for the hearing around Affirmative Action, I knew my presence there would be meaningful representation for our immigrant/Latinx community.
It is likely that myself and Justice Sonya Sotomayor were among the few Latinas in the room. So when I thought of how I wanted to show up in a space like the Supreme Court, an opportunity of a lifetime, I reached out to Descalza for support in looking good and feeling good in culturally affirming fashion.
I saw this collaboration with Descalza as an opportunity to represent my cultural Salvadoran heritage by wearing Indigo dyed cloth crafted by Salvadoran artisans. The Kimono style shawl along with my big frizzy hair and signature shades to hold the buscanovix in place (this was before I dig a big hair chop) made me feel Latina af, an identity I walk in proudly and cannot and do not want to hide.
ASKING MY ANCESTORS FOR STRENGTH AND CLARITY
I got involved in the Affirmative Action case through my activism work around Education equity. There is power in obtaining higher education and the systemic barriers that exist keep nuestra gente from accessing higher education, whether it be due to status, financial aid, navigating institutions of higher education as first generation college students, and/or other factors.
So when we show up for more equitable systems, we step into our power. When we show up unapologetically ourselves, we step into our power. When we wear our identities with pride, that is power. And when I sage myself before and after climbing the steps into the Supreme Court, I clothe myself with fabric from my motherland, and I ask my ancestors for strength and clarity from which to create change, that is protection.
WEARING THE ARMOR THAT FUELS MY ACTIVISM
I saw this piece as a form of armor.
I put it on to feel comfort, to feel confident and powerful, and as a reminder that my roots and lineage walk with me and I am never alone.
It’s also a reminder that although we are a family of immigrants and the United States is now our home, that our survival, resilience, and thriving comes from who our people were, are, and will be: powerful and protected. Living our lives with purpose, accepting and claiming our cultural strengths and generational power are meaningful ways I live my life and fuel my activism.
I align with Descalza for those reasons, and being intentional about what I was wearing for this major moment was a stylish contrast to the monotonia de todos los dias.
Thank you Descalza for helping me look good and feel good as I move through this world as an agent of positive change para nuestra gente y para todxs!
-Cecilia Polanco
If you're interested in collaborating on a meaningful piece together for a special event, email us at hola@descalza.co. P.S. Cecilia's custom piece is now available here!
Life works in such unique ways where you feel connected to people you haven't met in person, but your first interaction makes you feel like you've known each other already. At least that's how we felt when David emailed us with a request for a custom piece. The story he shares with us is about taking up spaces where we belong even when we feel uncomfortable.
Grammys 2024, what an absolute whirlwind!
Hey there, my name is David Morales and I'm a vocalist based in LA and I had the opportunity to attend the 2024 Grammys. A choir that I sing with, Tonality, collaborated on an album by Carla Patullo,“So She Howls”, that was nominated for Best New Age, Ambient, or Chant album.
FINDING A PIECE THAT REPRESENTED MY LATIN IDENTITY
Knowing that I would be attending the Grammys ceremony, I knew that I wanted to wear something unique and preferably a piece that represented my Latin identity. I am Salvadoran-American and as any good millennial, I googled Salvadoran fashion to see what I could find.
A lot of what came up was traditional clothing or clothes that had a big Salvadoran flag on them but I was hoping for clothes that could be worn to a more formal event. I kept scrolling through and came across Descalza and the owner, Caro, who herself is Salvadoran.
I came to love Descalza’s designs and use of textiles from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Peru. I sent an email explaining what I was hoping to achieve in representing my heritage at the Grammys and Caro responded enthusiastically. She sent me suggestions with my idea of using the Aguayo Fabric from Peru since the color was a Black and White which would match well in a formal occasion. She sent me over a mock-up of the design, made some adjustments, and then was on her way to preparing my one of a kind coat.
It was quite an easy process and my coat arrived in a few short weeks.I received my kimono-inspired coat in thoughtful packaging that definitely confirmed that my coat was handled with care.
TAKE YOUR SPACE AND MAKE YOURSELF BE KNOWN
I loved my coat but to be honest I was a bit intimidated in wearing a piece that was unlike any other coat I have worn to a formal occasion before. I did not want to stand out in an awkward way. But I had to remind myself that standing out was the very reason I wanted a unique piece in the first place.
Wearing a hand-made piece with textiles from Peru displayed my Latinidad for everyone to see. How could I not be more proud of that? So instead, my intimidation became joy in knowing that I would be representing my family, church, and everything else that encapsulates my heritage.
I love my culture and I especially love being Latino in spaces that sometimes need reminders that we belong. We belong in the arts. We belong in classical music. We belong in fashion.
I hope to be an inspiration for future generations to take your space and make yourself known. Wear your culture with pride and never forget the sacrifices that were made for us. My unique coat reminds me of what an honor it is to have all my lived experiences as a latino.
We met Cecilia at an event in North Carolina where we were immediately mesmerized by her aurora and her attention to color and pattern. We were later honored to have made a few statement pieces for her. The story she shares with us is part of an ongoing conversation we have with our community about why expressing our cultural identity is so multifaceted and the obstacles we face when we do want to show our authentic selves.
My mom loves telling a particular story of me as a little kid. She was a hairdresser, and one who prided herself on always dressing up and having perfectly styled hair because she saw that as part of her sales pitch to gain new clientele.
One day, I walked into her salon, with my dad following closely behind me. I had on mismatching socks, differing wild patterns on top and bottom, and likely pigtails that sat askew atop my head. My mom was embarrassed and immediately pulled my father aside to ask what happened. He beamed a smile that he was wont to do and said, “She wanted to dress herself, so I let her!” Then a friend of my mom assured her that it would only mean that, as an adult, I would always know how to style myself.
And, to this day, she believes that moment is why I dress as boldly and confidently as I do.
When my ancestors first immigrated to the United States, they were immediately Americanized.
Gone was the accent over the ‘a’ in our last name, as was the ‘z’ at the end of it- replaced with an ‘s.’ Both of my parents were born in the States, in a West Texas town called Stamford. Both families worked as migrant farmers, traveling around the lower 50 to pick cotton and other crops. My parents made many sacrifices in their lives to prioritize my brother and me, our education, and our access to better futures.
Growing up in an affluent suburb of Dallas, Texas, as a brown child was not always easy.
I recall trying to “fit in” with girls who wore designer clothing while we shopped at stores like ROSS. I tried to fade into the background a lot, wearing more subdued color palettes, while also desperately wanting to stay on trend with my classmates.
There were also the microaggressions towards Hispanic people. Not directed at me, per se, because I wasn’t “like the others.” But that didn’t stop me from internalizing those comments and striving for deeper and greater assimilation.
EMBRACING MY CULTURE AND NEVER LOOKING BACK
In my college years, I dabbled in colors, but I was not very comfortable or confident in myself. I always felt self-conscious and over-analyzed how friends and strangers looked at me. But as I got older, I slowly grew more comfortable in my own skin and grew more eager to embrace the Mexican culture I had pushed down for so long.
It was as if one day, I looked in the mirror and realized how rich and gorgeous jewel tones looked against my skin and then I never looked back.
Amongst my friends, I soon became known as the one who would always be brightly colored, no matter the season or occasion. Friends began associating my style with my personality, but I’m not sure if they ever understood that it was also my way of more openly embracing my culture. It went alongside no longer caring to straighten my wild and curly hair.
I am Mexican, and I was no longer ashamed to admit it.
WEARING THE PRIDE OF MY PARENTS AND MY ANCESTORS
A good friend of mine invited me to a North Carolina Latinas in Tech event back in the Fall of 2023. There, we were introduced to Lisbeth and her Descalza clothing brand. I was blown away by the textiles and textures of her clothing, and I couldn’t wait to purchase pieces of my own.
While I had previously purchased Mexican “puebla” dresses (which I generally wear only around the house) and began to fall in love with brands like Farm Rio, this was my first real venture into wearing authentic Central or South American designs that were more custom made for my body.
The Latina roots of these pieces were undeniable, and it brings me such pride when I wear them.
I am grateful for growing up and out of those cultural fears from my childhood. It is important-imperative, even- to embrace your authentic self. I am lucky to have been given all of the opportunities my affluent-adjacent childhood brought my way.
And I am proud of the sacrifices my parents and ancestors made to get me here. It would be a disservice to them all if I didn’t wear that pride brightly every day. And now, I look forward to wearing it even more overtly with brands like Descalza.
-Cecilia Gonzales
Want to wear your pride brightly every day like Cecilia? Head on over to our SHOP page to purchase your statement pieces today!
