Whether it’s hiring a makeup artist for a speaking engagement or doing a full face before running errands, many Latinas know the power of showing up polished. But this isn’t just about vanity — it’s cultural muscle memory. In many of our households, being “presentable” isn’t optional; it’s expected. It’s a learned behavior passed from one generation to the next, but most of all, it’s deeply tied to notions of pride, self-care, and even survival.
“[Getting glammed] is a ritual of self-honoring,” Dr. Elena Montalván, a board certified dermatologist based in Puerto Rico, tells Refinery29 Somos. “It’s not vanity, it’s presence. Preparing myself, whether it’s skincare or red lipstick, is a way of saying, ‘I matter.’ It’s the energy I pour into myself before I give to the world.”
In our culture, glam is a practice that blends aesthetics, spirituality, and strategy. For many Latinas, especially immigrants or daughters of immigrants, beauty routines aren’t just for looks — they’re a kind of armor. An intentional presentation to claim space in a world that doesn’t always make room for us.
“In our culture, glam is a practice that blends aesthetics, spirituality, and strategy.”
victoria leandra
Content creator and Miss Universe Cuba candidate Mia Dio remembers this as part of her upbringing: “My mom used to dress me like a little doll when I was a baby: matching bows and coordinated outfits. Looking back, I think that was her way of showing love. Presentation wasn’t just for looks, it was pride.”
The expectation to look “put together” was reinforced with both subtle and overt cues: grandmothers who slept in rolos and moms who wouldn’t let us leave the house without lip gloss (because we never know who we might run into!).
For Rebeca Torres, glam feels almost instinctual. “My mom always made sure I had everything I needed to look put together, from well-fitted clothes and clean shoes to good hygiene and always smelling like heaven,” she tells Somos. Beauty became such an intrinsic part of her identity that she built a career around it, eventually becoming the Senior Communications Manager at L’Oréal Caribe.
But glam can also be about respectability and perception. Dr. Montalván, who navigates the elite and often white-male-dominated field of medicine, understands this firsthand. “As a Latina in medicine, I’ve felt the weight of ‘proving’ I belonged. Looking polished was part of that unspoken expectation,” she says. “Now, I show up presentable for me, not to fit into someone else’s mold.”
“I’ve felt the weight of ‘proving’ I belonged. Looking polished was part of that unspoken expectation.”
Dr. Elena Montalván
Still, the line between empowerment and pressure is often blurred. “It becomes a burden when looking put together becomes an intense requirement and not just a self-care ritual,” Dio, who knows this all too well from her experience in beauty pageants, adds. “But even on my days off, I remind myself I don’t owe anyone glam. I do it when it feels good. It just so happens that it feels good more often than not.”
Torres, on the other hand, says glam never feels like a burden for her. “Getting ready is a form of meditation. It’s that moment in the day when I can set myself up for success,” she explains. “And no matter what happens, if I already had that moment for myself, I’m good.”
This duality is part of what makes the Latina relationship to glam so layered. It’s a love language, a shield, and a cultural inheritance. But it’s also a demand that can feel unrelenting, unsustainable, and tiring, which is why some have turned it into a ritual instead.
From splashing cold water on the face for a spiritual reset to literally praying through skincare routines, the body becomes an altar. “To me, skincare is sacred, non-negotiable,” Dr. Montalván said. “Fashion, on the other hand, is storytelling, and I write [my own script] every morning.” Dr. Montalván is known for posting her “outfit of the day” on Instagram stories every morning. She’s an example that you can be both: intelligent and emperifollá. “My intelligence and my eyeliner are not mutually exclusive,” she says.
“It becomes a burden when looking put together becomes an intense requirement and not just a self-care ritual.”
Mia Dio
These rituals often begin early on in our homes. The matriarchs of our families didn’t just pass down recipes, they passed down beauty regimens. My mom used to pour Medalla Light beer on my head at the beach to naturally lighten my hair under the sun, and she knew Agua Maravilla was an affordable toner long before clean beauty became a trend.
For Dio, that looks like knowing how to do a blowout or add volume to her hair with rollers because her grandmother still does both, daily. “It’s become a way for us to honor the women who came before us,” she says.
In a culture that can be hyper-visual and where Latina visibility is often filtered through stereotypes, choosing to show up glam is not just expression — it’s reclamation. We are not just what’s portrayed on Univision or the overly sexualized and “spicy” movie characters. We are complex and intentional, and sometimes we use our bemba colorá or high heels to say so.
Critics might call it vain, but glam in the Latina community rarely stems from ego. “I’d say that’s a limited lens,” Dr. Montalván says. “Makeup isn’t a mask, it’s a choice. Being ‘put together’ is about alignment, how I look, feel, and carry myself because I learned early on that how you show up sets the tone for how you’re treated.”
“Glam is how we show love to ourselves. It’s how we cope. It’s how we protect our presence in a world that often overlooks us.”
Mia Dio
Dio, also a comedian, echoes the sentiment with her usual wit: “[Whoever thinks that] clearly didn’t grow up in a Latino household. Glam is how we show love to ourselves. It’s how we cope. It’s how we protect our presence in a world that often overlooks us.”
Torres takes it a step further. “Since when is being vain something negative? Makeup is activism, it’s self-expression, it’s self-love, it’s protection. None of it is vain.”
What may seem like “just makeup” to some is, for many Latinas, a heritage practice. It’s also a response to generational adversity. When society tried to erase, glam helped us assert. When life felt unstable, un buen blower and trimmed brows helped us feel anchored.
To show up glammed is to say, “I am here, I am worthy, and I am not hiding.” It’s the opposite of invisibility.
And perhaps most beautifully, it’s a ritual that lives beyond the mirror. “Porque uno nunca sabe,” Dio laughed. “You never know who you’ll see, what moment you’ll walk into, or when life decides to surprise you.”
In other words: Stay ready, so you don’t have to get ready.
Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?
