You open your phone for five minutes and walk away feeling like you’re failing at everything. You haven’t hit your protein. You missed your fiber window. You should be lifting, but not too heavy, because someone on TikTok just said heavy lifting gives women a boxy waist. You need to sleep eight hours, but not before you’ve meditated, journaled, done ten minutes of evening stretching, and read something nonfiction. You have to work, but not let work consume you. Stay social, but protect your energy. Track your steps, heart rate, zone 2, macros, and cortisol. And if you have a husband and kids? Consider the bar higher still.

This is the wellness culture social media has built. And it is exhausting.

The Social Media Fitness Checklist That Never Ends

The “we need to” content pipeline runs twenty-four hours a day. For every hour spent on TikTok or Instagram, the algorithm delivers a new protocol, a new deficiency, a new reason to feel behind. But the people behind the most widely shared fitness content are often not qualified to give it.

“Just because someone has a large following doesn’t mean they’re qualified to give fitness guidance,” said Dr. Amy Comander, director of the lifestyle medicine program at Massachusetts General Hospital, to The New York Times. Richard Beddie, chief executive of Exercise New Zealand, agreed. He warned the latest wave of social media fitness trends is “often driven by online influencers with little or no formal training in exercise, health or wellbeing.”

A 2024 study published in Digital Health, which surveyed 339 active fitness video viewers on Douyin, China’s TikTok-like platform, found that trustworthiness and expertise matter far more than physical attractiveness in response to fitness influencers. The problem is that on most platforms, the two are almost impossible to tell apart.

The Social Media Fitness Myths Experts Are Tired of Seeing

Let’s go through what is actually circulating. “Runner’s waist” is a trend claiming that regular running will give women a wider, boxier waist due to visible oblique muscles. Per Exercise New Zealand, citing research highlighted in Healthline, this claim is not supported by scientific evidence. Running develops endurance, cardiovascular health, and core stability. It does not significantly increase the size of the oblique muscles.

“Cortisol face” is the suggestion that everyday exercise causes facial puffiness through elevated stress hormones. Medical experts at Ohio State Wexner Medical Center stated it is not a recognized medical condition. The facial changes associated with abnormally high cortisol levels are linked to rare disorders, not a morning run.

And the long-standing claim that women will get “bulky” from lifting weights continues to discourage strength training. Per Exercise New Zealand, building substantial muscle mass requires years of progressive resistance training, carefully managed nutrition, and in many cases, favorable genetics. For most women, strength training builds strength, bone density, confidence, and functional fitness.

Then there are the challenges. “75 Hard,” the viral program that requires two daily 45-minute workouts, a strict diet, a gallon of water, and at least ten pages of nonfiction reading for 75 consecutive days, is “extremely unsustainable” and “quite possibly the worst way to set good habits,” said Victoria Sekely, a physical therapist and founder of Train Smart Run Strong, per The New York Times. Exercising twice a day, especially for beginners, “is a good way to injure yourself and to create completely unrealistic expectations around exercise,” Sekely added.

“What I eat in a day” videos carry their own damage. “All of us have different heights, different weights, different body compositions,” said Dr. Comander. Meghann Featherstun, a sports dietitian in Kent, Ohio, warned that comparing your own diet to what you see online can encourage disordered eating, per the same reporting. It’s also worth noting that what someone shares may not be what they actually eat day to day, particularly when they make a living promoting sponsored products.

The Algorithm Doesn’t Know Your Body

What makes the social media fitness problem uniquely hard to escape is that the platforms are built to keep feeding it to you. Per Glorious Sport, TikTok and Instagram’s algorithms learn behavior from signals as small as whether a user lingered on a video for more than five seconds. The longer someone engages with fitness content, the more fitness content arrives, regardless of whether it is accurate, applicable, or created by anyone with credentials.

According to a 2023 study published in the journal Body Image, exposure to fitness influencers on Instagram and TikTok can increase body dissatisfaction, especially among young women.

The one-size-fits-all nature of the content is part of the design. “Effective fitness doesn’t look the same for someone managing chronic illness as it does for a college athlete,” per the International Fitness Professionals Association. Hormonal shifts, injuries, neurodiversity, and socioeconomic barriers all shape what a person actually needs from movement. Per IFPA, these realities are largely invisible in the content being promoted. When a program fails to work for someone, the implicit message social media sends is that it must be her fault: she didn’t push hard enough, didn’t want it enough. When in reality, as IFPA notes, the program was simply never designed with her body or her life in mind.

The data obsession adds another layer. Per Kathryn Larson, a cardiologist at the Mayo Clinic Sports Cardiology Clinic, some patients become so fixated on their trackers that “at the end of the day, they’ve kind of lost focus on why the exercise is important in the first place.”

Our Mothers Never Had Time for Wellness Culture

Here is the part that doesn’t get talked about enough.

Our mothers survived. That was the assignment. They worked, they raised children, they kept households running, and they did not have the bandwidth to think about their fiber intake, their zone-two heart rate, or whether their cortisol was aging their face. The wellness culture social media sells was never designed for women who were too busy keeping everyone else alive to take care of themselves.

And now, decades later, many of them are living with the consequences. And it’s not because they failed at some protocol. Because, honestly, they didn’t even exist. And because survival mode does not leave much room for building bone density, muscle mass, or the cardiovascular foundation that carries a person into old age without pain. The autoimmune conditions, the knees that won’t cooperate, the back too stiff to pick up a grandchild. That is what actually happens when health gets pushed to the bottom of the list, not because of anything a fitness influencer said, but because there was no other option.

Social media has taken that reality and commodified its opposite: the relentless idea that if you are not optimizing everything, you are failing. And it is selling that idea to the daughters of the very women who had no choice but to do without.

“We’ve gone from celebrating what our bodies can do to worrying about whether our waistline or face fits the latest TikTok trend,” said Beddie, per Exercise New Zealand. “That’s a step backward.”

The irony, Beddie added, is that social media is making people fear the very activities that improve their health. Running, strength training, and regular physical activity reduce the risk of chronic disease, improve mental wellbeing, and build confidence. The content designed around those same activities is actively working against them.

What Works Has Never Gone Viral on Social Media

The honest version of fitness advice does not make for compelling content. Per The New York Times, experts recommend finding movement you enjoy, doing it consistently, and building a habit, rather than chasing the latest miracle workout. Full-body strength training twice a week. Paying attention to how a workout feels rather than what the smartwatch reports. Consulting a nutritionist if you want guidance on food, rather than modeling your meals on a creator who may not eat what they post.

“What matters most is actual feeling and intensity,” said James McKirdy, founder of McKirdy Training.

Similarly, one of the most meaningful shifts in the fitness industry over the past two decades has been moving the conversation from “exercise for looks” to “exercise for health.” Social media is actively working to undo that progress.

Hundreds of people responded to Lucía Garrett’s Instagram reel with some version of the same thing: “I had no idea.”

The reel was about Mexican words with Náhuatl roots, such as chocolate, papalote, jitomate, and cacahuate. Words bicultural families use every day, in kitchens and playgrounds and conversations, without knowing they are also living pieces of Indigenous history that have made it into their everyday lives. The comments kept coming. And Garrett started thinking about the children.

“What if our children grew up knowing that from the very beginning?” she says. “What if, instead of discovering this as adults on social media, they simply understood that their language carries centuries of resilience and culture?”

That question became Mi primer libro de palabras con raíces náhuatl, a children’s board book written entirely in Spanish, illustrated by Garrett herself, and available now for pre-order at $13.99 through PatoPato, her children’s brand.

From Reels to Board Books

Garrett created PatoPato around a single goal: removing the barrier between parents who want to share their language and culture and those who actually do. The Náhuatl reel was part of that work. The response to it pushed her further.

“These words don’t belong in a reel that people scroll past,” she says, “but in the hands of the children who will carry them into the next generation.”

The book introduces children to 20 everyday Spanish words with Náhuatl roots through colorful illustrations, pronunciation guides, and fun facts about Mexican history and culture, according to the PatoPato product page. Garrett wrote and illustrated the book herself. It is built as a board book, designed for babies, toddlers, and preschoolers.

How She Chose the 20 Words

The selection started with one standard: words children actually say.

“There are thousands of beautiful words with Náhuatl roots, but I wasn’t trying to make a dictionary,” Garrett says. “I wanted a three-year-old to open the book and immediately recognize the vocabulary.”

She applied three criteria to each word: whether it is part of a child’s everyday life, whether its original meaning or story would surprise both parents and children, and whether it represents a meaningful aspect of Mexican culture, including food, nature, family, or daily life. Because she also illustrated the book, she considered whether each word could support a fun illustration.

Some words she loved did not make the cut. Aguacate, for instance, traces back to the Náhuatl word ahuacatl, which means “testicle.” That one, Garrett notes, may find its way into a future book.

Written Entirely in Spanish

The book contains no English. In a children’s book market where bilingual formats are standard, that is a deliberate choice.

“The connection between papalote and its Náhuatl roots disappears if you replace it with ‘kite,’” Garrett says. “The language itself is the story.”

She sees a specific gap in what bilingual books typically offer. “Too often, that means English is still the default, and Spanish is there as a translation or an addition. There’s a place for those books, but they’re creating a different experience, and they’re serving a different need.”

For the families PatoPato serves, Garrett wants a space where children can think, imagine, ask questions, and discover entirely in Spanish. “This book is creating one small space where Spanish gets to stand on its own,” she says.

For the Child Who Feels In Between

Garrett wrote this book with a specific child in mind: the bicultural child who has absorbed, in some form, the message that they are not Mexican enough or not American enough.

“Children feel connected to a culture when it feels familiar,” she says. “When their everyday is full of its food, its traditions, its stories, its language, and they begin to see themselves inside all of it.”

She describes the moment she hopes the book creates: a child opens it, recognizes a word they already use, and realizes the story behind it belongs to them. “Suddenly, they begin to realize this isn’t just their parents’ story. It’s theirs too. They begin to realize they’re part of something much bigger than themselves.”

The goal has never been to make a child choose. “Bicultural children don’t have to grow up feeling like they have to choose between identities,” Garrett says. “They can fully belong in the country they’re growing up in while also feeling deeply connected to where their family comes from.”

When a parent reads the book aloud and says “chocolate” or “papalote” with their child, Garrett hopes for a moment of shared wonder, a parent learning alongside their child, both of them realizing these words have been carrying a story forward without anyone noticing.

“Helping children realize that the words they speak every day aren’t just vocabulary,” she says. “Son nuestra herencia viva.”

A TikTok creator named Oz posted earlier this summer that her period was 13 days late “and counting.” “June has just been weird,” she said. “This is not typical for me.”

She was far from alone. Across TikTok, Reddit, and Instagram, thousands of women from the UK to South Africa to India to the United States reported the same disruption: periods arriving anywhere from four to ten days late, skipping June entirely, or showing up twice within the same calendar month. The conversation spread so quickly that it became genuinely viral, complete with competing theories about its cause.

Some pointed to astrology, others to climate. Some even pointed to CERN.

Here is what we actually know.

What Women Reported

The volume of reports demanded attention. On Reddit’s r/TwoXChromosomes, a thread asking whether other women had experienced an irregular June cycle attracted hundreds of responses. Women described periods arriving 4 to 10 days late, cycles stretching to 45 days in people with consistent 30- to 33-day cycles, and multiple instances of two full cycles within the same month. Pregnancy tests came back negative across the board.

“For 9 years I have regular cycles (28 to 32 days),” one Reddit user wrote. “Never got 2 in a month. Only happened in JUNE 2026. THAT’S WEIRD.”

Other women on the same thread reported no disruption at all and pushed back on the premise. “More people talking about it does not mean it’s happening more than normal,” one user wrote. Another put it in three words: “Confirmation bias in action.” They have a point worth holding onto, and we will return to it.

The Astrology Crowd Has a Theory

For a significant portion of online commenters, the timing suggested something cosmic.

June 2026 carried a high concentration of major astrological transits. Saturn, the planet astrologers associate with structure, timing, and delays, turned retrograde on June 28. The month also featured a New Moon in Gemini on June 15, a phase astrologers associate with fresh starts and resets, and a Full Moon in Capricorn on June 30, symbolizing culmination and release. Astrologers describe months like this as periods of disruption before a new rhythm settles in. For anyone tracking both their cycle and their cosmic chart, the convergence felt significant.

Others went further. Several Reddit threads referenced CERN’s four-year operational pause, which began on June 29, with some users speculating that the shutdown altered the nature of time itself and disrupted biological rhythms. Still others pointed to a karmic shift or a broader awakening of matriarchal energy as the underlying cause.

However, one thing is clear: there is no scientific evidence linking planetary movements to menstrual cycles. The CERN theories have even less grounding in documented physiology.

While Not a Planet, the Moon Does Have an Effect. And There, the Science Has More to Say

A September 2025 study published in Science Advances analyzed long-term menstrual records from 176 women over periods of up to 37 years and found that menstrual cycles historically synchronized with the lunar cycle, specifically with the full and new Moon, before 2010, per the study. After 2010, when LED lighting and smartphones became widespread, that population-level synchronization largely disappeared. The authors hypothesize that artificial light at night disrupts the lunar light signal that historically entrained the cycle.

Gravitational coupling persisted. The study found measurable synchronization of menstrual cycles with the Moon’s gravitational cycles, particularly in January, when the Earth is closest to the Sun and gravitational forces among the Moon, Sun, and Earth are at their strongest. The authors concluded that the human menstrual cycle behaves like a true circalunar clock, an endogenous biological oscillator that, given the right conditions, synchronizes with the Moon.

The reach of the astrological explanations still says something real about how many women are searching for a framework that matches the scale of what they experienced.

The Answer Might Be On Climate Change

The UK broke its record for the hottest June temperature this year, with a peak of 37°C (98ºF) in East Anglia. Since May, the UK alone experienced three heatwaves, and scientists estimate more than 2,700 excess deaths in England and Wales during the May and June heat periods, a toll they attribute to climate change. The rest of the world has experienced something similar.

And it has a documented effect on the menstrual cycle.

The hypothalamus, the part of the brain that regulates hormones, reads extreme heat as a physical stressor and prioritizes temperature regulation above nearly everything else, including the hormonal signaling that drives ovulation, per Nua Woman. Specifically, heat stress disrupts the pulsatile release of GnRH (gonadotropin-releasing hormone), which initiates the hormonal cascade that leads to ovulation, according to research cited by Nua Woman. Less GnRH means less ovulation signal. Delayed ovulation results in a delayed period.

A 2021 cross-sectional study found that climate and temperature shifts had measurable effects on menstrual cycle length. Warmer temperatures were associated with shorter cycles, while extreme heat events were associated with delayed or skipped periods.

Dehydration compounds the disruption. It thickens the blood, reduces circulation to the uterine lining, and makes periods heavier and more painful. Heat also degrades sleep quality, raising cortisol and further suppressing reproductive hormones. Being on your period already raises core body temperature by 33ºF. In a heatwave, every fraction of a degree adds up.

Pharmacist and TV health expert Thorrun Govind told Metro UK: “The menstrual cycle is sensitive to changes within the body and factors such as disrupted sleep and heatwaves can impact it.”

Dr. Nighat Arif, a UK women’s health expert, offered a clarifying note for anyone who experienced what felt like two periods in the same month: that pattern may reflect a shorter cycle in which ovulation occurred earlier than usual, per IOL. Two periods do not always mean two separate events. It can mean one cycle that started and ended within the same calendar window.

The Skeptics Have a Point, and So Does the Science

The confirmation bias concern is real. When a post goes viral asking, “Did your period do something weird in June?”, the women who experienced an irregular cycle are far more likely to engage than the women whose cycles were completely normal. Without population-level data from period-tracking apps like Flo or Clue, there is no way to confirm whether June 2026 represented a genuine statistical anomaly or a very noisy conversation about something that happens to someone every month.

Dr. Suzanne Wylie, GP and medical adviser for IQdoctor, said: “These effects are likely to be quite modest; they won’t happen to everyone.”

At the same time, the physiological mechanisms by which extreme heat disrupts ovulation are documented and published. The summer was record-breaking. The body does not operate in a sealed compartment separate from its environment. The idea that a June this extreme left menstrual cycles completely untouched requires more faith in biological impermeability than the evidence supports.

The honest answer is probably this: confirmation bias operating on top of a real environmental stressor, amplified by an algorithm that fed the conversation to everyone who clicked once. Some of the June reports reflect normal monthly variation that found an audience. Some of them reflect genuine disruption from heat, sleep deprivation, dehydration, and stress. The two are not in conflict.

It Was About Damn Time

The more interesting thing is that we are talking about it.

For a long time, menstrual irregularities were something women tracked quietly in apps and mentioned to their doctors in passing, if they mentioned them at all. The fact that thousands of women compared notes publicly, across countries, in real time, and demanded an explanation is something worth marking. They expected answers. They expected their bodies to be taken seriously. They expected the conversation to happen out loud.

Climate change will keep pressing on women’s bodies. Summers will keep breaking records. Heatwaves will become longer and more frequent. More Junes like this one are coming. The least we can do is keep talking about it.

And hey, if it’s a sign that the matriarchy is finally upon us, it was about damn time.

Love Island USA Season 8 ended Saturday night with Bryce Dettloff and Trinity Tatum taking home the $100,000 prize. They coupled up on night one of the June 2 premiere, navigated questions about their age gap (she’s 22, he turned 30 inside the villa), and won by popular vote on July 12. He told her he loved her. She said it back. They finally jumped in the famously underused villa pool.

Good for them.

Now, the season had more to say.

Making Breakfast Is Apparently a Grand Gesture Now

Somewhere between Season 1 and Season 8, the bar for romantic effort in the Love Island villa hit the floor.

Fans spent the season watching men get celebrated for doing the kind of things that used to be called basic courtesy: pulling a woman aside for a conversation, writing a letter (that production had to request), and making breakfast. And viewers all over the country agree. According to viewers on the Love Island US Fan Page on Facebook, the men largely skipped proactive pursuit all season. “No grand gestures that production didn’t have to ask them to do,” one fan wrote. “These men aren’t trying to actively pursue any of them.”

Reddit users observed the same pattern throughout r/LoveIslandUSA_. Fans treated men who showed the bare minimum of attentiveness as if they were doing something exceptional. The crowd’s response to it says something about how low the bar has become in general.

Casa Amor Reveals Everything

Casa Amor is the segment of the show where new islanders arrive, and existing couples are tested. It has become, season after season, the moment where you find out who was actually invested.

As expected, Season 8 followed the pattern. Several men who had appeared locked in with their partners immediately began entertaining new arrivals. Coast comfortably in an established couple, feel secure, then recalibrate when new options appear.

Zach’s behavior toward Kayda drew the most attention. Viewers noted he would pull back when Kayda tried to explore, cycle into reassurance-seeking mode until she settled him down, then repeat. “He’s playing the ‘I’ll keep her by making her insecure’ game,” one viewer wrote. KC’s resentment, multiple viewers noted, traced all the way back to day one, when no one initially picked him. Casa Amor became where that boiled over.

Called Out? Play the Victim

When the women confronted the men about their behavior, the season showed a consistent response: deflect, reverse the blame, act aggrieved that the conversation was happening at all.

Sincere’s final exchange with Sol, after he pursued her in Casa Amor and then returned to Melanie, became the clearest example. When Sol tried to address how his behavior had affected her, Sincere responded, “Are we just going to sit here and talk about how bad I am?” and “You’re no angel.” He deflected and reversed blame onto her, declining to engage with what she said.

The pattern held across the season. Viewers on r/LoveIslandUSA_ repeatedly noted that multiple islanders met accountability with indignation, unwilling to sit with discomfort long enough to acknowledge it.

And Then There Was “Epi-Tome”

One more thing Season 8 gave us: Sincere went viral for using the word “epitome” to describe Casa Amor and pronouncing it “epi-tome.” Separately, islanders’ confusion over tuna tartare, which descended into a conversation about cheese, made rounds on YouTube.

Yeah, these moments are funny. They are also, coincidentally, part of a larger conversation happening outside the villa. A recent Forbes piece argues that Gen Z’s communication struggles trace back to circumstances: the early career stage, pandemic disruption, and a genuine shift toward digital communication over live, high-pressure exchanges. “If every generation gets the same complaint,” says JP Pawliw, president of IHHP and the piece’s primary source, “the issue isn’t the generation,” per Forbes.

Last week, a woman on Reddit discovered why her shoulder had been in agony for eight months. Soon enough, she found some answers. However, she didn’t find out from her doctor. She didn’t find out from a specialist. She found out thanks to Penélope Cruz on a beauty brand’s YouTube channel.

“TIL that my frozen shoulder (that I’ve had for eight months) is likely due to perimenopause,” she wrote. “Not Penélope Cruz being better educated in the menopause than the myriad of male doctors I’ve seen over the past five years.”

She was not alone. When Cruz and her The Invite co-star Olivia Wilde sat down for Allure’s Truth Serum series this week, they talked openly about perimenopause, and specifically about a symptom most women have never heard of: frozen shoulder, also known as adhesive capsulitis. According to the Mayo Clinic, it is a multi-year condition in which the movement of one shoulder becomes limited and painful.

According to Midi Health, it may occur during perimenopause when falling estrogen levels lead to shoulder stiffness and restricted movement. According to countless women in the comments section, it has been agonizing. And nobody told them why.

This is what happens when celebrities say the things the medical system hasn’t bothered to explain.

What Penélope Actually Said

Cruz, 52, and Wilde, 42, are co-stars in The Invite, the A24 film directed by Wilde that premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival to a standing ovation and opened in theaters on June 26. Cruz plays Pína, a therapist and sexologist. One of Pína’s scenes, in which she talks openly about perimenopause, was not in the original script. Cruz put it there herself.

“I wanted to bring that to her,” Cruz explained to Entertainment Weekly. “If she is going to talk about sex, she has to talk about this.”

On the Allure set, Wilde asked Cruz to share the part of perimenopause she thinks is least discussed publicly. Cruz didn’t hedge.

“It can last 10, 12 years,” she said. “It can start as early as 40. The ups and downs can be crazy.” She described being 41 when her doctor told her that her hormones would be “doing this crazy dance for the next 10 or 12 years.” Her first reaction: “I thought it was a really bad joke. I thought it was not possible to handle that.”

She then described her own experience in precise, clinical terms: she develops ovarian cysts almost every month, cysts that spike estrogen levels so dramatically that labs have flagged the results as errors. “You can go from a number 30 of estrogen to a number 500,” she said. “They would look at that and say, ‘No, this is a mistake from the lab, let’s repeat the test.’ And it was right.”

“People have to know,” she said, “because you have to prepare yourself.”

She also credited bioidentical hormones, used in hormone replacement therapy to treat perimenopause and menopause symptoms, for helping her manage. “God bless bioidentical hormones,” she said.

The Frozen Shoulder Heard Around the Internet

It was Wilde who brought up frozen shoulder during the Allure conversation. Cruz had shared the symptom with her while researching Pína’s role, knowledge she credited to board-certified OB-GYN Dr. Mary Claire Haver.

As many, Wilde said she now thinks about frozen shoulder constantly. “I’m just waiting for my shoulder to freeze,” she laughed.

The internet was not laughing. Comment sections filled with women connecting dots they had never been given the chance to connect. “I’m nine months into mine and had no idea until now as well,” one person wrote on Reddit. “The doctor and I even discussed how our elderly mothers have experienced this. I knew about hot flashes and night sweats, but not this. It has been agonizing at times.”

Others wrote about their mothers, who had considered shoulder surgery without ever being told that perimenopause might be the cause.

Speaking to Tyla, Dr. Ravina Bhanot described frozen shoulder as an “under-recognized perimenopause symptom,” explaining that falling estrogen is thought to increase inflammation and stiffness around joints, with shoulders particularly vulnerable in women around ages 50 to 60. Studies suggest that hormone replacement therapy can also lower the risk of frozen shoulder in post-menopausal women, according to research cited by Duke Health. And the prognosis, Dr. Bhanot clarified, is good: “It’s very treatable with physiotherapy and anti-inflammatories, and it does resolve.”

That information exists. It simply was not reaching people through the channels it should have.

This Is Bigger Than a Beauty Segment

Cruz has been making this argument for years. In a 2019 interview with Tatler magazine, she said: “There are too many taboos surrounding women’s bodies, and I think it equals a big lack of respect. Words like ‘period’, ‘post-partum depression’, ‘menopause’. Even today, those words, you bring them up at a dinner table, everybody gets nervous.”

She sharpened that argument in Entertainment Weekly this week: “It’s shocking that over decades, we’ve stuck to the same information about how women’s bodies work. Look at funding for investigation into any illness that affects only women — we don’t get even half the investment. It is a level of control or suppression.”

“Without health, we have nothing,” she said. “You talk about real equality? Why don’t we start with health?”

She is not the only one saying it. Two weeks ago, Alanis Morissette, also 52, called menopause her “truth serum” in an interview with The Sunday Times. “The procreative imperative keeps me ooey-gooey, then when that goes away I’m in my authentic truth,” she said. When asked why she would start hormone replacement therapy if stopping later could bring symptoms back, she had one answer: “Who’s going off it?!”

The regulatory landscape is also slowly catching up. In November 2025, the Department of Health and Human Services announced that the FDA had begun removing “black box” warnings from menopausal hormone therapy products, according to AARP. Those warnings had discouraged generations of women from pursuing treatment. Hormone therapy is not for everyone. AARP notes it is generally not recommended for people with a history of blood clots, breast cancer, heart attack, or certain other conditions. But for many women, the option had been effectively taken off the table.

What Cruz did on a beauty brand’s YouTube channel was not glamorous. It was just necessary.

The Symptoms We Are Adding to Our List

The National Menopause Foundation has identified 36 known symptoms of perimenopause and menopause, according to the Cleveland Clinic. Hot flashes and night sweats are on that list. So is everything below — and according to menopause specialist Dr. Zubina Mawji, MD, about 20% of patients present with symptoms that are never immediately connected to perimenopause at all.

“Women oftentimes know when they’re experiencing the most obvious signs,” Dr. Mawji told the Cleveland Clinic. “But it’s only when we start delving into other possible symptoms that they realize it could all be related.”

Here is what they might not realize is related, per the Cleveland Clinic and UCLA Health:

Skin, hair, and nails: Sudden acne recurrence (sometimes teenage-level breakouts), hair thinning and loss, brittle nails, dry and itchy skin, and unexpected body odor.

Mood and mental health: New or worsening anxiety, depression (in approximately 20% to 30% of women, according to the Cleveland Clinic), and panic disorder, which develops or worsens around menopause in an estimated 10% of women.

Gut and digestion: Constipation, diarrhea, bloating, heartburn, and acid reflux, all connected to estrogen receptors in the gastrointestinal tract, according to the Cleveland Clinic.

Energy and sleep: Fatigue, insomnia, and night sweats that wake you up for months at a time.

Nervous system and senses: Difficulty concentrating, dizziness, “body zaps” (brief electric shock sensations), tingling in hands and feet, and dry eyes, which affect up to 60% of perimenopausal women, according to the Cleveland Clinic.

Joints and muscles: Joint pain, which affects up to 60% of women in menopause according to the National Menopause Foundation, muscle tension, headaches, breast pain, and frozen shoulder.

Heart: Heart palpitations, which affect up to 42% of perimenopausal women according to a review cited by the Cleveland Clinic, and changes to cholesterol levels as estrogen’s protective effects decline.

Everything else: New or worsened allergies, urinary urgency and incontinence, increased UTIs, loss of libido, and elevated risk of osteoporosis (10% to 20% of bone loss occurs in the first five years of menopause, according to the Cleveland Clinic).

UCLA Health ob/gyn Dr. Rajita Patil, director of UCLA Health’s Comprehensive Menopause Care program, put the mandate plainly: “Don’t suffer silently. Recognize what’s going on and then advocate for the care you need.”

On July 3, 2026, approximately 1,000 guests gathered at Madison Square Garden in New York City to watch Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce get married. Thousands of fans stood outside. The internet devoted itself entirely to the flowers, the dress, the guest list, and the cake. And while all of that happened, the rest of the world kept moving — because it always does.

Here is what was happening at the same time.

1. The United States Was Actively at War

Since February 28, 2026, the United States and Israel have been at war with Iran, following joint airstrikes that killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei. The war has cost U.S. taxpayers an estimated $113.3 billion as of mid-June. It triggered a global fuel crisis after Iran blocked the Strait of Hormuz. By the wedding weekend, U.S. and Iranian officials were holding indirect ceasefire talks in Doha, through Qatari and Pakistani mediators. Vice President JD Vance said the talks were “going well.”

2. Iran Was Burying Its Supreme Leader, and No One Could Find the New One

The man killed in the February airstrikes, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, was being given a seven-day state funeral from July 3 to 9. Millions of mourners gathered across Tehran, Qom, Najaf, and Karbala. Organizers expected between 15 and 20 million people to participate in the processions, making it the largest state funeral in Iran’s history. Representatives from more than 100 countries were attending.

And Iran’s new Supreme Leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, son of the slain Ayatollah and the man selected to lead the Islamic Republic through its biggest crisis in 47 years, was not there. He has not been seen or heard publicly since taking power, according to Time. U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth said in March that Mojtaba had been “wounded and likely disfigured” in the same strikes that killed his father, and Reuters reported in April that he may have lost a leg.

3. The Venezuela Earthquake Death Toll Was Still Rising

On June 24, twin earthquakes measuring 7.2 and 7.5 struck the northern coast of Venezuela. By July 3, the death toll had risen to 2,645, with nearly 50,000 people still unaccounted for. More than 60,000 buildings had been damaged or destroyed, and the country had experienced more than 862 aftershocks.

Among the missing and the dead were 146 Venezuelan nationals who had been deported by ICE from Miami that same morning. Their flight landed at 10:22 a.m. Venezuelan authorities placed them in a hotel that collapsed the same evening.

4. America’s 250th Birthday Was a Disaster

July 4, 2026, was the 250th anniversary of the United States’ Declaration of Independence. The celebrations did not go as planned. A historic heat dome had blanketed the eastern two-thirds of the country, forcing the cancellation of parades and fireworks displays in Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, Hartford, and elsewhere, according to Al Jazeera. A thunderstorm delayed Trump’s anniversary speech at the National Mall by almost two hours.

When Trump did speak, he praised the ongoing war in Iran and railed against what he called “communists.” Pope Leo XIV, who has clashed repeatedly with Trump over immigration and the Iran war, chose the same day to call for “moderation” in U.S. public discourse, urging Americans to find “common ground” and “unity.”

5. A Historic Heat Dome Was Killing People Across 28 States

More than 200 million Americans were under heat alerts over the July 4 weekend, according to NBC News. It was the largest heat event in years. Temperatures reached 106°F in Atlantic City, New Jersey, on July 4. At least 22 people died in New Jersey alone, according to CNN. Nearly 800,000 homes and businesses lost power across multiple states, and the Department of Energy ordered all generators to run at full capacity for the second time that summer.

6. The Supreme Court Ruled on Birthright Citizenship

In the days before the wedding, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 that the Constitution guarantees automatic birthright citizenship to virtually all children born in the United States, according to NPR. Chief Justice John Roberts wrote the majority opinion. The ruling directly rejected a Trump executive order signed on his first day in office, which had sought to strip citizenship from babies born in the U.S. to parents who are undocumented or on temporary visas. It was one of the most consequential immigration rulings in years.

7. ICE Arrested 10,000 People in Five Days, Without Anyone Noticing

Without public announcements or the city-by-city sweeps that drew attention the prior year, ICE arrested more than 10,000 people in the five days ending July 1. Agency leaders had set 2,000 arrests per day as the new standard. Top officials were instructed to keep as many officers as possible working seven days a week, with 80 percent of them assigned to arrest operations. The scale was unprecedented. But the coverage? Yeah, it was minimal.

8. The Supreme Court Also Ruled That States Can Ban Transgender Girls From School Sports

In one of several major decisions issued at the close of its term, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 that states may ban transgender girls from participating in sports at publicly funded schools. Justice Brett Kavanaugh wrote the majority opinion. The ruling handed states broad authority to exclude transgender athletes from competition, and was handed down just days before the wedding.

9. Mexico Was Eliminated From Its Own World Cup, and the Azteca Said Goodbye

On Sunday, July 5, England defeated Mexico 3-2 in the Round of 16 at the Azteca, knocking the host nation out of the tournament. Goalkeeper Guillermo Ochoa, who had announced his international retirement before the tournament, was one of the last players to leave the field. The crowd gave Mexico a standing ovation. Outside the stadium, the celebrations continued anyway.

Mexico’s 40-year wait for a quarterfinal extends to at least 2030.

10. The United States Moved to Make Citizenship More Expensive

In a July 1 update, USCIS proposed raising the cost of the naturalization application for U.S. citizenship, with the online filing fee increasing from $710 to $1,280, according to Crown World Mobility’s immigration update. The paper filing fee would rise to $1,330. The change arrives as the administration has also expanded scrutiny of all immigration applications, required more interviews, and instructed USCIS officers to treat adjustment of status as discretionary rather than guaranteed.

The ceremony at Madison Square Garden lasted a few hours. The rest of this will take years to sort out.

She turned around in the stands at Kansas City Stadium on June 26, got down on one knee, and asked the man she loved to marry her. He was somewhat distracted, but said yes. The crowd around them erupted. The internet, however, did not.

The moment came during the Netherlands versus Tunisia 2026 FIFA World Cup group-stage match and was captured on video and shared across social media. In a stadium full of cheering fans, the proposal drew applause from the people immediately surrounding the couple. Then it traveled online, where men with very tender egos found it deeply troubling.

The jokes wrote themselves. The comments filled up. And a woman’s decision to propose to the person she wanted to spend her life with became, somehow, a topic of national debate.

Let’s have that debate, shall we?

Only 2% of Women Propose to Men, and That Number Says Everything

According to a survey by wedding platform Zola, only 2 percent of heterosexual women propose to men. A 2017 survey by The Knot found an even smaller share, just 61 proposals out of 12,657 brides surveyed. For a generation that overwhelmingly considers itself equal to its partner, that gap demands an explanation.

Zola’s own survey found that 77 percent of straight-identifying women had never even thought to propose, even though 98 percent viewed themselves as completely equal to their partner, according to Rachel Jarrett, President and COO of Zola. Thirty-six percent said the man is just “supposed to propose.” 16% worried that a proposal might wound their partner’s ego. 14% said they were ready to commit but were still waiting for confirmation in the form of a ring.

“Why are women and men who fight for equality in all other aspects of their lives clinging to a tradition that inherently does not put them on equal footing?” Jarrett wrote in an essay for Zola.

It is a fair question.

The Tradition Has Roots That Have Nothing to Do With Romance

The reason the proposal has historically been the man’s job has nothing to do with sentiment. When the modern institution of marriage took shape, men were the sole financial providers, and a marriage proposal was also an economic proposition. The person controlling the resources made the offer. Women across much of Western history had no independent financial standing.

It is worth remembering that in the United States, women could not get a credit card in their own name until less than 50 years ago. While the economics changed, the ritual took centuries to follow.

Rosemary Hopcroft, professor emeritus of sociology at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte, explained the tradition’s staying power to Time magazine. “There’s a psychological and emotional reason why women still want their husbands to provide, and that doesn’t seem to have changed,” she said. “It’s obviously not rational. There is no need for it. But we’re not just rational actors. We’re emotional.”

That honesty matters. Tradition does not have to be rational to feel real. What it cannot do is go unexamined forever.

Most Men Would Actually Love to Be Proposed To

Here is the part the fragile-ego commenters missed: most men are not opposed to being proposed to. A Glamour survey of 500 men found that 70 percent would be “psyched” if a woman proposed, according to Hi Holden. Match.com’s seventh annual Singles in America study found that 95 percent of men said they would welcome women making the first move, according to Hi Holden.

Elizabeth Taylor proposed to the British actor Michael Wilding in 1952, and Diane Von Furstenberg and Judge Judy also proposed to their respective partners, according to Hi Holden. None of them appears to have suffered for it.

In a Reddit thread on the topic, one commenter described his experience directly: “My wife proposed to me, it was terrific, she surprised the heck out of me even though we had discussed marriage in the months prior.” Another said he would have been flattered if his partner had proposed to him during their five years together before he eventually asked her. The men who said they would feel uncomfortable were not hard to find in the thread either. But neither were the ones who said they would welcome it.

“Of course, a woman can propose to a man,” said Tina B. Tessina, a psychotherapist who has been counseling couples for four decades, in an interview with Clarity.

There Is No Single Script for a Relationship That Works

This is the actual point.

And relationship expert Adina Mahalli, MSW, agrees: “Authenticity, creativity, and a show of love are the basic requirements for a proposal. Where you go from there is up to you, regardless of your gender.”

Some couples want the grand gesture. Some want a quiet conversation over breakfast. Some men have spent years envisioning their own proposal and want to be the one to ask. Others are waiting for someone to relieve them of the pressure of performing a ritual they never asked to carry alone. Some couples propose together, buy the ring together, agree first, and announce second. Some skip the whole production entirely and simply decide.

None of these is wrong. The problem only emerges when one version of a proposal gets treated as the only legitimate one, and when a woman who acts outside that script becomes the subject of ridicule from people who have nothing to do with her relationship.

Ariel Meadow Stallings, founder of Offbeat Bride, told Refinery29 that LGBTQ+ couples have been the ones to push tradition forward, often out of necessity. “When you see your gay brother get proposed to by his longtime boyfriend, and then your lesbian BFF proposes to her girlfriend, I think it starts to rattle the cage of tradition and gender norms about who’s supposed to propose,” she said.

Briella can still picture her conservatory professors reacting to what she does now. The Venezuelan singer and songwriter, born María Gabriela Otaiza in Valencia, spent years inside one of the country’s strictest classical music systems before turning toward a genre many of those same teachers still treat with suspicion. Five years and three projects later, that tension between formal training and street swagger has become the engine of her career.

How a TikTok Cover of Maluma Launched Briella’s Career

Briella built her earliest audience on TikTok, posting covers that layered her own verses over other artists’ hits. “If Maluma’s ‘Hawái’ came out, I’d show up and write a new verse and post the cover,” she said. The format caught the attention of fellow Latin star Natti Natasha, who ran a challenge called “Las Nenas,” inviting fans to write an original verse to one of her songs. Briella entered and finished among the competition’s five winners, taking home a $1,000 prize she still calls overwhelming for her at the time. That money became the budget for her first official music video, and with it came her debut single, “Otra Vez,” released in 2021.

Before Briella embarked on a solo project, she and her boyfriend, who is also her producer today, ran a small alternative pop duo that even placed songs in telenovelas, she said. “It was a very small, very alternative project,” she told FIERCE, calling it her training ground. “I learned to mix the vocals myself, and say, okay, I want this here, I want that there.” When she launched Briella as her own project in 2021, she pointed it squarely at reggaeton.

The Conservatory Training Behind Briella’s Reggaeton Sound

At 14, Briella began five years of classical piano training. At 16, she moved into music theory and harmony courses at the Carabobo Conservatory of Music while earning a degree in Music Education from the University of Carabobo, graduating Cum Laude in 2021 with the highest GPA in her faculty. She also met her boyfriend and current producer there, she said.

That formal training still shows up in every session, even on a reggaeton track. “All the knowledge we had from the conservatory was there. Okay, let’s start at this tempo, let’s do the switch here, let’s change it,” she said of producing with her boyfriend. But she said the genre gave her something the conservatory never did. “I studied music, I studied classical piano, I went through a conservatory that was extremely rigid, and I feel like reggaeton was what let me get out of that box,” she told FIERCE. Her early sound, she clarified, “wasn’t a nasty urbano, it was more like a pop urbano.” Still, she said, “that dirty touch gave me the flow I felt like I was missing.”

Inside Briella’s New EP Tinikijima, Out June 25

Briella’s new EP, Tinikijima, arrives June 25 as what her label describes as a soundtrack for summer, self-discovery, and emotional growth, exploring femininity, heartbreak, healing, friendship, and self-love through a sound rooted in Latin and tropical influences. The name comes from a real place. “Tinikijima is a beach in Choroní, the most spectacular beach my eyes have ever seen,” Briella said. The entire visual universe of the EP, every video and every shoot, was filmed there, she said. The word means “hidden place,” and she said it felt right the moment she heard it. “I felt like the name was calling to me,” she said.

Why Briella’s New Songs Are Making Conservative Men Uncomfortable

The EP’s tracklist leans into themes she calls deliberately provocative. The lead single, “Devuelve a Tu Marido” (“Return Your Husband”), builds on a simple joke. “Basically, if your husband comes factory-damaged, return him. That’s the concept of the first single,” she said. The track has already pulled in 67,000 YouTube views and 45,000 streams. Another track, “Dos Novios” (“Two Boyfriends”), runs with the premise of having two partners at once and has logged 16,000 YouTube views and 18,000 streams of its own, while the focus track, “Princeso,” takes aim at men she describes as acting entitled, building toward the line that a queen doesn’t go around with little princes.

Briella said the reaction has split along predictable lines. “Venezuela is a very conservative country, and obviously, there are comments from people who are hurt,” she said. She described two types of men responding to the project: some telling her they love what she is doing, and others getting offended by the subject matter, often without recognizing the humor beneath it, she said. “Honestly, I do feel quite free right now.”

What Briella Wants Listeners to Feel Years From Now

Briella said her priorities have shifted since her TikTok-cover days, when virality was the goal. “Now I want people to listen to this song one, two, three years from now and say, what a good song, it doesn’t sound old, the production still sounds current,” she said. “That’s what I wanted most with this EP, for the music to last, for it not to be something that lasts a month and disappears, but something that lasts for years.”

Briella’s Bogotá Media Tour and a First Hometown Concert in Caracas

Briella said she is heading to Bogotá for a media run that includes an acoustic performance at Cumbia House and presentations at local schools. Talks are also underway for her first official concert in Venezuela, in Caracas, though she said no date has been set. “It’s in the works,” she said.

The 2026 World Cup has literally taken over the world. But last Saturday, in the middle of all that excitement, a float rolled down Paseo de la Reforma during Mexico City’s World Cup parade carrying a group of elderly women in tricolor jerseys, waving to a crowd chanting “México, México, México.” Some of the women cried. So did some of the people watching. Almost nobody in that crowd knew who they were.

They were the 1971 Mexican women’s national soccer team, the one that played a World Cup final at Estadio Azteca in front of more than 110,000 fans, more than half a century before anyone officially decided to remember them.

Before Mexico Hosted a World Cup, It Hosted a Secret One

Organized women’s soccer in Mexico has roots that go back further than most people assume. Interest took off after a Costa Rican women’s team toured the country in 1963, inspiring Mexican women to form their own clubs. By 1969, there was enough momentum to hold the country’s first women’s championship, with 17 teams competing around Mexico City.

That same energy was building in Europe, where an organization called FIEFF, the Federación Internacional y Europea de Fútbol Femenino, began organizing its own unofficial women’s tournaments outside FIFA’s control, with backing from the Italian beverage company Martini & Rossi. In 1970, FIEFF staged the Coppa Martini & Rossi in Italy, a tournament now widely considered the first unofficial Women’s World Cup. Mexico was not originally invited. The team only got a spot after Argentina and Brazil dropped out.

Mexico made the most of it. The team’s opening match in Bari ended in a 9-0 win over Austria, with Alicia Vargas scoring four goals. Vargas, who had grown up playing street soccer and joined a Guadalajara club at 13, kept scoring throughout the tournament and picked up the nickname “La Pelé.” Mexico went on to lose to the host, Italy, and beat England, finishing the tournament in third place.

Mexico City Built a Women’s World Cup FIFA Refused to Recognize

FIEFF’s organizers decided the 1971 tournament would be held in Mexico, and this time at full scale: Estadio Azteca in Mexico City and Estadio Jalisco in Guadalajara, with six national teams competing.

The Mexican Football Federation wanted nothing to do with it. FIFA had already moved to ban member federations from involvement in unsanctioned women’s tournaments after the success of the Italy event, and Mexico’s federation threatened fines against any club that let women play in its stadiums, Sports Stories reported. Organizers got around the threat by booking stadiums that the federation did not control, since Azteca and Jalisco were privately owned, and their operators wanted the broadcast revenue.

What followed was a marketing campaign built almost entirely on novelty and spectacle. Organizers created a mascot named Xóchitl, a cartoon girl with pigtails in a tricolor uniform, splashed across posters and keyrings across Mexico City, and painted the goalposts pink. Sponsors included Martini & Rossi, the beer brand Carta Blanca, and the diet soft drink Dietafiel, according to the BBC. One tournament organizer told The New York Times at the time that the appeal was simple: “It’s a natural combination of the two passions of most men around the world: soccer and women.” The New York Times’ own coverage carried the headline “Soccer goes sexy south of the border.” Organizers had told the press the players’ uniforms “will be as close as possible to hot pants,” according to Women in Sport’s review of the documentary “Copa 71.”

Behind the spectacle were real players who had fought just to get on the field. Silvia Zaragoza of Mexico had loved the game since childhood, but had to play in secret because her father would beat her if he found out.

A Final Watched by More Than 110,000 Fans, by a Team That Wasn’t Paid

Once the tournament began, crowds showed up in numbers nobody had predicted. Mexico’s opening match against Argentina, a 3-1 win, drew 100,000 fans. Mexico also beat England in the group stage, then beat Italy 2-1 in the semifinal in front of 90,000 spectators.

The final, against Denmark on September 5, 1971, drew more than 110,000 fans to Estadio Azteca. Denmark won 3-0, with 15-year-old Susanne Augustesen scoring all three goals.

Before that final, the Mexican players asked organizers for a bonus. They had been playing for more than a year without pay while the tournament generated significant ticket and sponsorship revenue, and the request leaked to the Mexican press, which turned on them. Rather than risk disappointing the country that had filled Azteca for them, the players decided to take the field anyway.

The Welcome Home That Took 55 Years

The cameras and crowds disappeared almost as fast as they had arrived. FIFA technically lifted its ban on women’s soccer after 1971, but offered no funding or support, leaving the sport in the hands of federations that mostly ignored it. England’s Football Association banned the players who had taken part in the tournament, including Leah Caleb, though the ban did not last. “By taking part in the event, we jolted the FA. We were banned from playing for taking part in an unofficial World Cup,” Caleb told the BBC. “But they realized very quickly they were being ridiculous, and our bans were lifted.” Harry Batt, the English team’s organizer, was blacklisted by the Women’s Football Association for going around it, and his club folded.

Denmark’s federation eventually took over the women’s game but never called up Augustesen, the final’s hat-trick scorer, for an official cap. In Mexico, the players returned to dusty fields and volunteer coaching, with no institutional backing to build on what they had just done. It would take another two decades before FIFA staged its first officially sanctioned Women’s World Cup, in China in 1991.

The story stayed largely forgotten in Mexico until 2023, when documentaries including “Copa 71,” produced by Venus and Serena Williams, brought the tournament back into public view.

Mexico Finally Gives the 1971 Team Its Parade

That renewed attention has slowly turned into formal recognition. In March, Mexico City Mayor Clara Brugada led a tribute to the players, saying they “changed the fate of women’s soccer and should never have remained forgotten.” The team was honored earlier this month again at a Mexico-Serbia friendly in Toluca, Los Angeles Times en Español reported, before Saturday’s parade put them in front of the biggest crowd they had seen since 1971.

Among the players who once filled Estadio Azteca and have now been formally recognized are Lourdes de la Rosa, Eréndira Rangel, Alicia Vargas, María Eugenia Rubio Ríos, Patricia Hernández Montoya, María de la Luz Hernández, Silvia Zaragoza Herrera, Yolanda Ramírez Gutiérrez, Bertha Orduña, Martha Coronado Díaz, Sandra Tapia Montoya, Elsa Huerta Méndez, Elvira Aracen Sánchez, Irma Chávez Barrera, Cristina García Gómez, Guadalupe Tovar Ugalde, Elsa Salgado Pérez, María Acela Nila Mejía, Rebeca Lara Pérez Tejada and María de la Luz Cruz Martínez, along with teammates Paula Pérez Padierna and Teresa Aguilar Alvarado, who have since died. Récord singles out Vargas, Rangel, Rubio Ríos, and Esther Mora as the team’s standout figures from that run to the final.

Content creator Kimberly Munz finally named something in therapy that millions of Latinas could spend a lifetime trying to pinpoint. She shared that she realized in therapy that “because our Hispanic mothers told us ‘ponte a hacer algo, ponte a barrer, limpiar, etc.’ whenever we were resting or relaxing, has caused us to have high functioning anxiety.”

I had to pause the vid to digest the weight of that realization. I rewound my mental cassette and remembered the frustration I felt with my mother every time she said the exact same thing. Now, as an adult, and very much aligned with Kimberly, I understand that conditioning has shaped my work ethic and my nervous system.

What’s worse, we Latinas grew up with the conviction that these mechanisms were badges of honor. And the consequences? We manage them so well—because we show up, we deliver, we don’t fall apart—nobody notices we’re drowning.

So, let’s call a spade a spade, shall we?

What high-functioning anxiety looks like to the outside world

One thing I found in my research is that high-functioning anxiety isn’t a clinical diagnosis. It doesn’t appear in the DSM-5, the diagnostic manual used by mental health professionals. Instead, according to the Mayo Clinic, most people with high-functioning anxiety are actually diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, even if they don’t completely fit the stereotype.

To a stranger, or even to family, a person with high-functioning anxiety appears competent. They seem organized, dependable, and proactive. They meet their deadlines and manage their careers. Hell, they even volunteer. But beneath that surface, according to the Mayo Clinic, they’re wrestling with persistent feelings of stress, self-doubt, and the fear of not measuring up. It’s the persistent discomfort of significant self-criticism.

Then, HelpGuide, a nonprofit health resource, offers a beautiful metaphor: it describes it as living like a duck on water: everything above the surface appears calm and relaxed, but underneath, there’s a constant whir of hectic paddling. People with high-functioning anxiety could experience racing thoughts, chronic worry, self-doubt, difficulty relaxing, or a persistent fear of failure despite their success. They may experience headaches, sleep problems, muscle tension, or stomach upset. However, because they’re managing, because they’re still functioning, nobody sees there’s an issue.

The Latina-specific roots of high-functioning anxiety

Sandra Arboleda, a Latina licensed clinical social worker who works with Latina and immigrant communities, sees this pattern daily in her practice. “Part of this stems from growing up in environments where rest or stillness was sometimes judged,” she explains. “For many of us, taking a break wasn’t considered healthy or necessary. Instead, it was often viewed as being lazy, selfish, or not contributing enough.”

From childhood, many Latinas learn to be responsible, productive, helpful, strong, and emotionally contained. A survival inheritance, if you will. And, hey, we get it. Many Latino parents were raising their children through resource scarcity, immigration, and their own trauma. For us, the children, being hardworking was how you proved you deserved to be there, how you made your parents’ sacrifice mean something, but, most importantly, how you made sure you didn’t burden anyone.

Ligia Orellana, an LMFT and anxiety specialist working in Los Angeles, gave me a different perspective, although she sees the same truth: “For many First Gen and BIPOC folks, especially within Latinx culture, emotions were minimized, and productivity was the primary way to earn safety and belonging.” When staying busy, achieving more, and taking care of everyone else becomes the coping strategy, rest starts to feel strange, uncomfortable, and even unsafe. Allowing yourself to need support can feel like failing expectations that were handed to you before you could speak.

The cultural systems that drive this are astonishingly real and specific. Familismo teaches Latinas to prioritize family needs over their own. Marianismo and the perpetuation of the Madonna-whore complex demand self-sacrifice, moral superiority, and the ability to endure suffering silently, yet looking gorgeous. Perfectionism doesn’t require merely success, but the appearance of ease.

Why the medical system misses it in Latinas

Once more, Latinas’ experiences fall into the health system’s blind spot. According to Cleveland Clinic psychologist Adam Borland, the primary difference between high-functioning anxiety and generalized anxiety disorder is how a person responds. With GAD, people tend toward the “fight or flight” response. They might try to remove themselves from situations that trigger their anxiety. With high-functioning anxiety, the response is more “fight”: a person pushes themselves to work harder to combat the anxiety.

God, by now, you should call us superheroes, then. We show up, don’t complain, and perform with such competence that doctors, therapists, and loved ones don’t think to look any closer. What’s worse, Kate Sheehan, managing director of UCLA CARES, an anxiety awareness program, notes that many high-achievers with moderate to severe anxiety don’t know what it feels like to live without their anxiety. They believe their anxiety is a necessary part of their success. They work hard to make their achievements seem natural and easy.

At one point, we trick ourselves so well that it’s easy to overlook the symptoms. Latinas might dismiss their negative thoughts, feelings of unease, and difficulty relaxing as simply “the price of success.” For many, being stressed and anxious all the time is so normal that it just feels like being alive. And if being a Latina meant learning not to burden others with your struggles, asking for help can feel like the ultimate betrayal of everything you were taught.

What Latinas are actually experiencing beneath the functioning

Arboleda expanded on what high-functioning anxiety looks like from the inside: overthinking, constant internal pressure, being dependable but resentful, and managing everything while feeling deeply stuck. Many Latinas don’t slow down long enough to notice the toll until someone close to them says something, or they find themselves at the edge of burnout. By then, it’s been years.

Or, as it is in my case, you snap, pack your bags, and move to the middle of nowhere.

And the physical toll is just as real. According to UCLA Health, anxiety shows up as back and neck pain, headaches, increased heart rate, insomnia, shortness of breath, stomach upset, and chronic tension. High-functioning anxiety may cause burnout, digestive issues, elevated blood pressure, and an increased risk of depression.

But here’s what Arboleda emphasizes. “Many Latinas receive praise for their ability to function, but no one considers the cost of that functioning.” Ergo, we are noted for our resilience, while our exhaustion is treated as a character strength. We are told we’re so strong, so capable, so dependable. And no one asks if we want to be any of those things.

The system that reinforces it

From the micro to the macro, high-functioning anxiety in Latinas is also a cultural and structural issue. We are raised to manage it silently, yes. We are praised for managing it well. But then, we are punished for daring to ask for support. Orellana describes this trap: “There is immense pride in being the strong one, the responsible one, the achiever, until it starts to feel heavy. There is also guilt in thinking about stepping away from those roles, which leads to many struggling to get support.”

The medical system doesn’t catch what it can’t see. When high-functioning anxiety presents as ambition, reliability, and success, it’s nearly impossible for a clinician to spot without specific cultural knowledge and the right questions. Latinas may have believed for so long that their worth depends on their productivity that they don’t even bring up their anxiety unless directly asked. And even then, they might minimize it because the shame is too heavy. We end up dressing it up as commitment, or, in the worst cases, reframing our suffering as proof of love.

Recognition is not resolution, but it’s a first step

Kimberly Munzz’s reel was a huge reckoning moment, for her and for all of us who came across it. We recognized how our mother’s voice became our own internal critic, and it’s a huge first step. But acknowledgment alone changes nothing. Knowing why you’re anxious doesn’t stop your heart from racing at rest, at least not for me.

What I think changes is when we Latinas start to understand that our anxiety isn’t our fault, and that healing doesn’t require abandoning our culture. It requires interrogating which parts of our inheritance serve us and which quietly kill us. It means examining why survival is treated as a virtue.

For my part, this is where I plan to start. Not managing anxiety more quietly, but building a relationship with rest that doesn’t feel like failure. God knows it will be hard, but I’d rather not work harder to prove my worth every single day and try to put my feet up once a weekend without feeling I need to be doing something productive.

In the end, I want to be allowed to be something other than strong. Don’t you?

Anna Faris didn’t audition for Scary Movie expecting to become a star. She didn’t expect to become anything, really. In the summer of 1999, she was a fresh college graduate from Seattle who had moved to Los Angeles to follow a guy. She’d never done comedy in her life. She waited tables, then recorded an audition tape from her childhood home and sent it in just to see what would happen.

That tape changed everything.

Scary Movie became a blockbuster. It made $278 million on a $19 million budget. And it launched Anna Faris onto the A-list, or at least close enough that Hollywood noticed her. But as she looks back now, 26 years later, returning to that franchise for Scary Movie 6, Faris has had to confront something she’s been too polite to say out loud for a very long time: Hollywood systematically undervalued her when she was the one making them money.

Anna Faris Was Number One on the Call Sheet. Yet, She Wasn’t on the Poster

In 2011, Vulture ran a profile asking whether Anna Faris would finally make the leap to genuine A-list status. She was on the verge, they said. She’d had The House Bunny, a lead role she produced herself. She was in talks for major films. But even then, the reporting made clear what Hollywood’s gatekeepers really thought: Faris straddled two worlds and properly occupied neither. She was almost, but not quite, in the same tier as Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, and Katherine Heigl.

What the 2011 analysis didn’t address was something Faris herself didn’t say publicly. She had already been systematically underpaid and undervalued in the very franchise that made her famous. She was the star of Scary Movie, number one on the call sheet, and the character everyone remembered. But she wasn’t in the first poster. And while the films were making massive money, she wasn’t being paid like a star.

“I was number one on the call sheet but wasn’t in the first poster and wasn’t paid anywhere near the most,” she revealed in an interview on Josh Horowitz’s podcast this year. “It was a humbling start.”

That word—humbling—encapsulates everything she didn’t say for 25 years. Yes, she was grateful. She knew she’d gotten lucky. She was a long shot. But she was also being exploited à la Hollywood, meaning, when the person being exploited starts to believe they deserve it.

Then They Cut Her Out Entirely

For Scary Movie 3 and 4, Faris stayed on. The Wayans brothers, who created and starred in the franchise, weren’t asked back after the second film. But Faris was contractually obligated. As the professional she is, she showed up. She did the work. And then, in 2013, when Scary Movie 5 came around, she wasn’t invited. Nobody called. The franchise that had defined her career simply moved forward without her.

For 20 years, she didn’t speak to Marlon Wayans. When her agent called every few years to suggest maybe new executives would bring the series back, maybe there’d be another opportunity, she’d say no. She felt undervalued financially. After all, she had other work. She had moved on, or at least she pretended to.

But here’s the thing: the Wayans brothers fought to get their franchise back. They went to war with the studios. Marlon Wayans has repeatedly said they had the franchise “taken from them,” and he directly named Harvey Weinstein and his brother Bob as instrumental in losing those rights. There was a contractual dispute and a negotiation. A pissing contest, if you will.

For her part, Anna Faris was just replaced. She wasn’t fighting because she felt she wasn’t in a position to fight. She was one woman who had been underpaid from the jump. And when Hollywood decided to move on, she stayed quiet and gracious.

The Pratt Years: Visibility Doesn’t Mean Agency

In 2009, Anna Faris married Chris Pratt. From the outside, this looked like a power move. Pratt was rising, and she was established. Together, they were a Hollywood couple. But, as it’s often the case, over the next nine years, Faris’s individual identity merged into “Chris Pratt’s wife.”

She had a successful career in the industry. She appeared in Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain and Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation. These were roles that should have confirmed her as a serious actress, not just a comedienne. But the industry had already decided what she was. A 2011 agent quoted in Vulture said, “There’s not a lot of girls like her who do ‘hot’ and ‘funny.’” The implicit perception was that she couldn’t do anything else.

When Lost in Translation came out, people assumed her role was a dig at Cameron Diaz. That assumption followed her for years. In 2026, she finally addressed it on a podcast: “It felt like it took a little something away from my flavor, and because I had auditioned for it and earned it as that performance. I always felt, like, ‘No, I’m not part of some grand, weird sabotage.’” She had, once again, to defend the legitimacy of her own work.

During those Pratt years, Faris had visibility, though not agency. She was visible because of her marriage, yet she wasn’t being courted for roles; casting directors saw her as “Chris Pratt’s wife.” And when the marriage ended in 2018, she was left with something worse than being underpaid in a blockbuster franchise. She was left with the wreckage of being publicly associated with a man whose career only went up, and the subliminal accusation of “maybe you did something wrong.”

The Gendered Math That Hollywood Won’t Admit

Let’s break it down: Two groups of people built Scary Movie’s massive success. The Wayans brothers and Anna Faris with Regina Hall. The Wayans negotiated power, got cut out, fought back, and won their franchise back. Faris and Hall got cut out and stayed cut out. One way or another, they became background elements in a story about the Wayans taking back their creation.

This is the same old Hollywood story where men have leverage and agents who fight for them, and women must be grateful, pleasant, and available if the industry decides to use them again.

That’s why, when Faris was asked to return for Scary Movie 6, she had “complicated feelings,” as she’s described them. She said she always imagined that if she came back, “it would be a concession of my soul. Because I imagined I would be a cameo and get paid a lot of money, but not enough. Not enough for my pride.” Talk about systemic undervaluation.

Anna Faris’s Return Is Not Going Unnoticed

When Marlon Wayans called in February 2025 to tell her they got the franchise back, something changed. Faris came back for Scary Movie 6. And for the first time in 25 years, she felt what she described as genuine valuation.

“I felt valued in a way that I never thought the franchise would give me,” she told Entertainment Weekly. “It felt very, very, very meaningful and powerful to me to be able to look at Marlon in particular and be like, ‘Dude, I love you. Your family gave me something huge. And I’m beloved by association.’”

While Faris was genuinely thanking him for valuing her, we cannot help but notice that she’s still performing gratitude for being treated fairly.

In The End, The Question Isn’t Whether Hollywood Did Her Dirty. It’s Why She Had to Be So Nice About It.

Anna Faris is an adored comedienne and part of the life of an entire generation. She’s had a long career, working with major directors. By any measure, she’s had success.

But the question isn’t whether she made it. It’s what she lost along the way by being too polite to fight back. It’s what her career would have looked like if she’d had the same leverage, the same institutional support, the same assumption of power that the men around her had. It’s what happens when a woman is told she’s lucky to be there, so many times, that she starts to believe it’s true.

Today, when Faris talks about her role in Primetime, a small dramatic part opposite Robert Pattinson, she describes it as “incredible.” Yeah, the movie might be great, but she’s still conditioned to be gracious. That’s what happens when you spend 25 years in an industry that’s convinced you that being paid less than you’re worth is actually a gift.

This summer, women of all ages are wearing swimwear that would have felt scandalous five years ago. And they are doing so unapologetically.

The skimpy bikini boom is real. And it’s not about exposure.

The skimpy swimwear trend—from thong bikinis to micro cuts to strategic cutouts—is a quiet revolt happening in plain sight. Women are saying, “This is my body. I’m comfortable in it. I’m going to wear what makes me feel good.” And we want in.

The Shift From “Flattering” to “I Feel Good”

For decades, women were told that certain bodies could wear certain things. The constant argument was to prioritize looking “flattering,” which really meant minimizing your flaws, hiding your “problem areas,” and making yourself smaller.

Fortunately, that word is basically dead now, and we owe it all to Gen Z.

We’ve moved into what Shaun Cole, an associate professor of fashion at the University of Southampton, calls “another age of body consciousness—a much more expressive moment.” People are saying, as he puts it: “It’s my body, and I can show it off in ways that I choose to.”

This is to say, instead of conforming to one ideal, we are collectively rejecting the idea that there’s only one ideal in the first place.

Women of all shapes and sizes are embracing bolder cuts with real confidence, bypassing the marketing brainwashing and throwing other people’s opinions out the window.

What Changed, Exactly?

Three things, to be exact.

First, the fitness obsession with glutes shifted the cultural conversation about bodies. For years, the fitness industry sold flat abs and thin thighs. Now it’s sculpting, building, and celebrating the posterior. So when women went to the gym and built the bodies they wanted, the image in their heads finally matched the one in the mirror.

Second, Gen Z arrived and refused to play the game. This generation is fundamentally less interested in the concept of being “flattering.” They’re not interested in dieting their bodies into clothes but in finding clothes—or wearing no clothes—that celebrate who they actually are. The phrase “that’s not flattering” will earn you a side-eye, and rightfully so. Because the response is basically: “So what? I like how I look anyway.”

Third, the internet finally did something right when it comes to body standards. Social media gave women a way to see other women wearing bold swimwear. Not models. Real women. Women with stretch marks and cellulite, and bodies that don’t fit into the narrow bandwidth of magazines that are still stuck on the ultra-skinny model. When you see 500 women on TikTok confidently wearing a thong bikini, it stops feeling scandalous and starts feeling normal.

Add e-commerce into the mix, and suddenly you could actually buy these things without explaining yourself to a store clerk, if that’s your pet peeve. You could try them at home, read reviews from real bodies like yours, and make a choice based on what you really want.

The Trend Itself: What’s Actually Happening

The skimpy summer aesthetic has several key silhouettes, and the important thing to understand is that none of them are new. What’s new is that they’re now being featured side by side, as a beautiful spectrum of choices.

The micro bikini—the one that’s basically string and triangles—has been around since the 1960s, influenced by Brazilian beachwear. However, for decades, it was considered extreme, reserved for celebrities and people with specific body types. Now it’s mainstream, showing up everywhere from Miami Swim Week runways to ecommerce platforms.

The thong bikini (or what’s sometimes called the cheeky cut or dental floss style) used to be the ultimate goal for many, if and when you achieved that body. Now, you see it on everybody and every brand. From high-street retailers to luxury brands, fashion insiders note that thong styles are being marketed more diversely than ever before. Women of all shapes and sizes are leaning into this cut, and the industry is finally catching up.

Then there’s the ‘90s minimalist wave—sleek, clean-lined one-pieces and two-pieces in neutral colors like mocha, black, and white that feel almost like shapewear with contoured lines. This one is interesting because it bridges the gap between “revealing” and “elevated.” You can look like you walked off a runway and also feel completely yourself.

The cutout situation deserves its own mention. Strategic cutouts on bikinis and one-pieces—asymmetrical, at the sides, on the back, defining the waist—are everywhere.

The Shift Is About Comfort and Self-Determination

When you wear a swimsuit you actually like—one that fits your body, celebrates it, makes you feel confident—you wear it more. You walk from the towel to the shore with an unknown yet liberating confidence. You’re simply not spending mental energy worrying about coverage or how you look from certain angles. And, God, does that feel good!

For decades, women’s relationship to their bodies in public was mediated by shame, the male gaze, and respectability politics. The idea that showing your body meant you were asking for something or deserving something. And we are finally free.

Body positivity—the real version, not the Instagram version—is about the radical acceptance that all bodies are worthy of taking up space, of comfort. All bodies deserve clothes that fit them, celebrate them, and make them feel good.

According to research on India’s fashion ecommerce market, which is expanding rapidly and seeing significant growth in inclusive sizing options, curve-friendly fashion has exploded as women realized they didn’t have to wait for permission. They could just buy a swimsuit that worked for them.

The shift toward extended sizing, diverse marketing, and designs that work with bodies rather than against them is evidence of what would happen if marketing actually paid attention to what people want, not to what certain powerful interests want to see out there.

And we are here for it.

If you’re like me, you probably have piles of unread books scattered all over your house. After all, there’s no such thing as too many books. However, one of my favorite times to buy books is right at the start of summer.

Every year, tons of new books come out just in time for summer, hoping readers will have a chance to enjoy them. I’ve already put together my own list, and I’m excited to share it with you.
Here are some books by Latino authors that are perfect to pack for your summer adventures.

When You Want to Disappear Into Someone Else’s Life

“Last Night in Brooklyn” by Xochitl Gonzalez swallows you whole.

Set in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, in 2007, the story follows 26-year-old Alicia Canales Forten as she questions her life and gets caught up with her glamorous neighbor La Garza, a fashion designer, and her wealthy cousin, a Wall Street banker. The backdrop is a looming financial crisis and a presidential election. Critics are calling Gonzalez’s novel a modern-day Great Gatsby that explores class, ambition, gentrification, and the tough choices people of color face as they chase the American Dream. If you want to escape into someone else’s luxurious but risky world, this is the book for you.

“The Sun and All the Other Stars” by Karla Montalván is a sweeping literary romance that spans centuries and cultures.

Marisol Varela, a Cuban American muralist living in Madrid, is trying to move on from a broken engagement and a family history that seems to doom the women in her family to heartbreak. Through past-life regression therapy, she experiences three former lives: a rebellious painter in 1482 Florence, a clever woman caught up in espionage during the Spanish Inquisition, and a gay man facing love and loss in 1980s SoHo during the AIDS crisis. In each life, she meets Dario, an Italian poet whose bond with Marisol lasts through the ages. The novel explores whether love is shaped by fate, choice, or something else entirely. Available in both English and Spanish, it brings together themes of immigration, gender, queerness, and art as a form of survival.

When You Want Your Brain Engaged

“The Mystery of the Stolen World Cup Trophy” by Angela Cervantes is perfect if you’re traveling with kids, or if you just want something that moves fast and keeps you guessing.

Twelve-year-old detective Diez Espada, named after Lionel Messi, has to find the stolen World Cup trophy at a Miami party before the big game. He joins forces with his crush, Rio, and a well-known detective to crack the case. Cervantes mixes soccer with a classic mystery, adding quirky suspects, clues, and themes of friendship, family, and redemption, along with real-life soccer details.

“Muñeca” by Cynthia Gómez should be first on your list.

This vivid, surreal Gothic novel is set in 1968 Oakland and follows Natalia Fuentes, a queer, Latine, working-class witch. She’s determined to save Violeta Miramontes, a beautiful heiress paralyzed by a strange illness that Nati believes is caused by dark magic. Hoping to break the spell and earn a reward, Nati becomes Violeta’s caretaker. As their romance grows, Nati becomes more reckless and must confront her own past. This debut feels like the work of a seasoned writer, exploring how far someone will go to save the person they love, even at great personal cost.

“Electric Shamans at the Festival of the Sun” by Mónica Ojeda is hypnotic and disorienting in the best way.

Translated by Sarah Booker and coming out in May 2026, this novel follows best friends Noa and Nicole as they travel from Guayaquil to the Solar Noise Festival, a retro-futuristic event near a volcano. Along the way, they encounter drugs, wild parties, and strange rituals. Noa searches for her missing father and struggles with sleepwalking, while Nicole witnesses the dark changes happening around them. Ojeda mixes techno-shamanic rituals with themes of girlhood, trauma, and violence. The story is trippy and unforgettable, exploring both personal and societal breakdown in a way that lingers long after you finish reading.

When You Want to Remember What It Felt Like to Be Young

“Tangled Roots & Wild Dreams” by Angela Velez is hilarious and moving in equal measure.

The story centers on Ezzie Ramos, who’s great at keeping secrets. Her smart professor mom and curious abuelita have no idea about her daily trips to the art museum, her blank college applications, or her summer plans. What they really don’t know is that she’s interning at Sprout, the urban garden her father started just weeks before he died. With seven weeks to learn who her dad really was, Ezzie follows every clue, even if it means dealing with Gabe McCalister, Sprout’s star volunteer, who’s both off-limits and hard to ignore. The book is funny and heartfelt, showing how growing up means learning that secrets, like seeds, eventually come to light.

“The Chismosas Only Book Club” by Laekan Zea Kemp and Heidi Moreno tells the story of four best friends whose bond is tested when they enter high school.

This book follows four best friends—Cat, Sofia, Ana, and Mari—whose bond seems unbreakable. When Cat’s mom calls them chismosas for laughing too loudly at the bookstore, the nickname sticks, and Cat starts the Chismosas Only Book Club to help them stay close as they start high school. Ninth grade isn’t easy, and even their favorite snacks and laughter at Milagro’s Books, founded by Cat’s ancestor, can’t always fix the cracks in their friendship. Maybe the spirit of Milagro herself can help. Full of whimsy and heart, and featuring black-and-white graphic novel chapters, this charming book celebrates friendship, family, and the power of stories to bring people together.

When You Want Something That Shakes You

“Medea Sang Me a Corrido” by Dahlia de la Cerda reimagines Medea as a deity with punk-rock flair, equal parts midwife and gravedigger.

Set in the mythic yet familiar country of Aztlán, where cartel and military violence blur together, Medea helps a trophy girlfriend through an abortion, supports a mother searching for her missing son in the desert, and comforts victims of the state and its wars. De la Cerda’s writing is powerful and introduces a captivating new take on a mythological figure in a harsh world.

By Joan Wallace.

Whenever we think of fashion, our minds go to the usual suspects: Giorgio Armani, Karl Lagerfeld, or Alexander McQueen. However, the Latino community has had a long tradition of fashion geniuses. Think Carolina Herrera, Oscar de la Renta, or more contemporary ones like Willy Chavarria, Alejandra Alonso Rojas, and Johanna Hernandez.

But nowadays, the U.S. fashion industry is among the most difficult to break into, especially for Latinos. That’s why Colombiamoda Miami is changing the game for designers who want to showcase their art in the American fashion scene.

Since its beginnings in Medellin in 1990, they have broken the status quo, embracing diversity and providing a platform for creatives from all walks of life, including members of the LGBTQ+ community. Designers like Esteban Cortazar and Hernan Zajar graced their runways, carving out their own paths in Latin America before entering the U.S. market, where success did not come overnight.

Years have passed, and the platform has become a front-row witness to the evolution of countless fashion businesses, helping nurture their talent, creativity, and ambition.

According to Sebastian Diez, President of Inexmoda, “The first edition of Colombiamoda Miami exceeded our expectations. Seeing brands interact with buyers, media, and industry leaders was incredibly rewarding. We came back home inspired and determined to do even more to support the international growth of Colombian fashion.”

For the last three years, the platform’s focus has been on showcasing brands and making them shine over three days, exposing their creative strength to diverse audiences in Miami’s up-and-coming arts district: Wynwood.

“We wanted to create a platform where talent, creativity, and business opportunities could come together in one of the most important gateways to the U.S. market,” Diez explained.

From Local to Global

This year, 35 brands took center stage at the event. Among them was La Oculta, which participated in last year’s edition and has successfully expanded its international reach, building a strong, growing customer base in the United States and Africa.

The brand is led by Sofía and Catalina, two Colombian creatives and cousins from the coffee-growing region of Pereira. United by a shared passion for fashion, they have transformed a family legacy—one passed down through generations—into a contemporary brand that celebrates Colombian craftsmanship and design.

Their story reflects a broader trend seen throughout the event. Many brands, including accessory labels, handbag manufacturers, and footwear brands, have leveraged this platform as a launchpad for growth. What starts as a local undertaking can quickly become an international opportunity, exposing designers to new audiences, business contacts, and markets worldwide.

How You Can Be Part Of It

For the Colombiamoda Miami exhibition, the application process begins on Colombiamoda.com. Since participation is selective, you need to submit your brand portfolio for either showroom participation or the Colombiamoda Selection pop-up. The program specializes in categories like resort wear, swimwear, casual and urban fashion, accessories, handbags, footwear, and jewelry, giving emerging and established brands an opportunity to connect with international buyers and expand their global reach.

“Our goal is to accompany brands throughout their internationalization journey, helping them develop the competitive advantages that make Colombian fashion unique and relevant around the world,” Diez shared.

Growing Beyond Borders

The platform has been an incubator for the next generation of fashion entrepreneurs and for Miami’s Latino community.

The event also contributes to the economic development of Miami’s Latino community by creating new business opportunities, strengthening trade connections, and attracting international buyers and entrepreneurs to the city.

As a link between Latin America and the United States, Miami offers the ideal platform for Colombian and Latin American brands to expand their presence, drive sales, and enter into strategic partnerships. The platform supports commerce and strengthens Miami’s role as a leading hub for Latin American entrepreneurship and creativity in the U.S.

At a time like this, Karol G’s recognition at the American Music Awards is an unmistakable sign.

The United States of 2026 is not the same as it used to be. Today, the definition of who is “American” looms large in everyday conversations, at least for a minority that has to raise its voice louder and louder to be heard. And I’m not talking about Latinos. After all, we have more than proven that we are no longer a minority—neither demographically, culturally, nor economically. I’m talking about the other side of the aisle.

That’s why Karol G’s performance and recognition at the 2026 AMAs are so important.

Following her successful appearance as the first Latina headliner at the Coachella festival, the Colombian star performed “Ivonny Bonita” from her album Tropicoqueta on stage.

Without backup dancers, Karol G commanded the circular stage, with a sheer curtain as her only accompaniment. And while English-language headlines tried to describe her—“sensual,” “provocative,” “seductive”—Karol G was speaking to the iconic status of the Latina woman. And she forgave the journalists, since it’s well known that they don’t translate song lyrics very well. But believe me when I say, Karol G wasn’t seducing anyone. She was celebrating femininity.

Regarding the song, the singer has called it “probably the most important song on Tropicoqueta.” “The song truly expresses what I would like women to feel about themselves when they listen to each song on the album,” Karol told Rolling Stone last year. “I want them to feel confident.”

The best came later... almost.

The gala, which celebrates “American music,” couldn’t overlook Karol G’s power. Immediately after her performance, John Legend presented the superstar with the Award for Excellence as an International Artist. It was the industry’s way of recognizing her enormous global impact on music and culture.

To put things in context, the last star to receive this award was Whitney Houston in 2009. “Like millions of fans everywhere, I think the world of Karol G,” Legend remarked. “There are artists who make hits, and then there are artists who make history.”

For her part, and still in her performance costume, Karol commented that she felt honored to receive the award. She called it a “legendary moment in my career,” giving a nod to the surname of the person presenting her with the award. But more importantly, Karol said that this past year has reminded her of her life’s purpose: music.

“I’m just happy that I can perform … and I can say things in my songs and become a voice for a lot of people, a healing place, a safe place.” She continued: “I just think that my life is meaningful because of my music, and to help others through it.”

However, in what reminded many of us of the infamous red carpet moment at the 2026 Critics’ Choice Awards, Legend took the opportunity to present Karol G with another award: Best Latin Album. It was the same rushed format of recognition that almost, almost feels like “just to get it over with.”

But you know what? It doesn’t matter. What is undeniable is that the talent of Latinos, especially Latina women, cannot be overlooked.

Debi Nova is the most successful artist in Costa Rica’s history. She’s a Grammy nominee and the first from her country to reach that stage. Still, when you talk to her, she focuses more on what music has let her experience than on her achievements.

She started out singing backup for Gandhi, Costa Rica’s biggest rock band. Later, she performed with Ricky Martin, Sergio Mendes, and even Britney Spears. She worked with the Black Eyed Peas, wrote songs for RBD, and explored many genres and countries. Along the way, she realized something the industry still finds hard to grasp: there’s a difference between being visible and truly being seen.

For Debi Nova, understanding that difference has shaped her six albums, her Grammy nomination, and her choice not to follow every trend. Most importantly, it’s helped her answer a question many women in Latin music face: how to stay true to yourself when the industry pulls you in different directions.

For Debi Nova, songwriting is how she gets through tough times.

Debi Nova wrote her first song at fourteen. She didn’t realize then that songwriting would become something that saved her life, not just once, but many times.

“Songwriting has always been my way of processing emotions and experiences,” she says. “I think that moment marked the beginning of something I’ve relied on over and over again.”

In a fast-moving industry that always wants something new, songwriting became her anchor.

Her most recent album, Todo Puede Convertirse en Canción (Everything Can Become a Song), clearly shows this belief. She turned toxic and even painful experiences—professional betrayals and personal wounds—into music, transforming them in the process. When asked if songwriting helped her survive those chapters, understand them, or reclaim them. “It’s been that way since I was a teenager. I feel incredibly grateful for that.”

Staying grounded takes work.

Debi Nova has learned that resilience doesn’t look like one big moment of success. For her, it’s something she works on every day, and it’s what has kept her going for over twenty years.

“There are so many external expectations, comparisons, and pressures that can easily pull you away from your center,” she explains. “The most important thing I’ve learned is that I have to be good with myself.”

She says being good with herself means taking care of her mental health, her body, and her relationships. It also means treating her time as precious and not comparing her journey to anyone else’s.

“When I’m able to put myself first and not compare my path to anyone else’s, it becomes much easier to navigate the harder days,” she says. “And the only way I can access that clearly is by staying open—open-minded, open-hearted—and committed to living in a healthy, balanced way.”

A career focused on depth.

Over the years, Latin pop has changed quickly. Trends come and go, and record labels often focus on what’s popular online.

Despite all this, Debi Nova has chosen to go deeper with her music.

She has built a career—six albums, a growing audience, international recognition—by following the songs that felt honest to her. Not the songs that would chart fastest, but the ones that she felt in her body and resonated through her whole being.

“It’s been a challenging path, choosing to build a career without chasing the latest trends,” she acknowledges. “But at the same time, I feel incredibly grateful because I have built a career. I’ve been able to make six albums and grow an audience song by song, through music that is truly mine.”

This choice is almost radical. While the industry values speed, she chose to focus on lasting work. Instead of always changing, she decided to stay true to herself.

“At this point, what fulfills me the most isn’t what I get in return, it’s the act of creating itself,” she says. “The doing. That’s the prize. I get to make music, and that, to me, is amazing.”

What she learns from young artists

Working with others helps Debi Nova learn more about herself and those around her.

Recently, she worked with young artists like Kendall Peña and J Noa on deluxe versions of her album. She was surprised to see that they were still finding their own voices and figuring out their paths in music.

“There’s something so refreshing and inspiring about that,” she says. “Getting to witness how they interpret the songs, what they connect to, what they bring into them… it really expands the music.”

It’s not just about what she gives them. It’s also about what they give back to her.

Kendall Peña made “Noticia de Ayer” his own. J Noa brought a verse to “Épico” that was “incredibly poignant and powerful,” expanding the song’s message about women’s empowerment.

“In a way, they helped me say things that maybe I couldn’t have said alone, or at least not in the same way,” Debi Nova explains.

The challenge of visibility

Debi Nova is the most successful Costa Rican artist in history. She is also, by her own assessment, still not fully seen by the industry.

When she looks at Latin music today, she sees more women creating unique and interesting work from all over the region. But she also notices that the industry still doesn’t fully support or make space for all that diversity.

“I see more women doing interesting, unique work from all across the region,” she says. “But it still feels like that diversity doesn’t fully have a place within the industry.”

You can see this in the awards. She points out that the Grammys usually nominate more women and show more diversity than the Latin music awards. This shows that the Latin music industry still hasn’t made enough room for women in all their complexity.

“The Latin music industry is still a bit behind when it comes to expanding opportunities for women,” she states. “It often feels like Latina artists are still expected to fit into certain stereotypes—both in the kind of music they make and in how they present themselves.”

“I think there’s still a lot of work to be done—both as an industry and as a collective—to create more visibility for Latina artists in the full scope of who they are and what they bring.”

How long can a song last

For Debi Nova, the unavoidable truth is: a song can last much longer than any trend. Sometimes, a song even outlives the moment that inspired it.s or chart positions. It is something you feel and, therefore, your audience feels, too.

“There’s something magical that happens when I sing a song that I truly feel in my heart,” she says. “It’s something that resonates through my whole body. That’s what I respond to.”

She has built her career by believing in that magic. She trusts that being authentic lasts longer than chasing trends. She believes that an audience will slowly grow around music that comes from the heart, not from a formula.

And honestly, that belief has paid off. Debi Nova can look back and know she’s built something real that makes her happy.

A song made from truth never really fades. It waits for the next person who needs it. For Debi Nova, that’s the real reward.

If you haven’t heard the phrase “hot divorcee summer” floating around the internet yet, get ready, because it’s about to be everywhere. And honestly? We’re obsessed.

This isn’t about actually getting divorced (though if you are, congrats on your freedom, bestie). This is about energy. A vibe. A whole spiritual movement wrapped in wide-brimmed hats, flowing linen, and the kind of “I don’t care what you think” confidence that somehow makes you look the best you’ve ever looked.

Think Jennifer Coolidge in The White Lotus. Think Goldie Hawn in Overboard and First Wives Club. Think Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun. Think Joan Collins casually declaring “M&S rosé season” like she didn’t just marry her fifth husband. That’s hot divorcee energy.

But wait—what exactly IS hot divorcee summer?

According to everyone talking about it right now (The Guardian, Metro, TikTok, your aunt who finally left her husband), hot divorcee summer is the antidote to last year’s “brat summer.” Where brat was disheveled, messy, “I woke up in yesterday’s makeup” energy, divorcee is the complete opposite: high glam, high effort, and high conviction that you look absolutely stunning.

“Divorcee is high glam. It’s wide-brimmed hats and full-length skirts,” explained comedian Tatty Macleod (who, for the record, has a very supportive boyfriend—and yes, you don’t have to be actually divorced for this). “It’s for the people who were always 40-year-old women in waiting, who were never ‘girls’.”

The core of hot divorcee energy? Unvarnished devil-may-care spirit. Not in a reckless way. In a way that says: I spent enough time worrying about what other people thought, and now I’m just going to wear the outfit I want, say no to things that don’t serve me, and look absolutely fabulous while doing it.

The glow-up is real.

One of the wildest things about hot divorcee summer is that people actually look noticeably better. Like, botox-level better—except it’s not botox; it’s just happiness, Korean skincare, and finally, finally prioritizing yourself.

It’s the intentional self-care, the therapy, the breaking free from drudgery that men don’t typically experience. It’s knowing what you want, probably for the first time in your adult life. And—here’s the thing nobody talks about—it’s menopause energy. Literally, when you’re in perimenopause or through menopause, you stop having the “caring hormones,” which means you stop giving a rat’s ass what people think. And that’s when the magic happens.

The aesthetic: Big energy, bigger hats.

So how do you actually dress like a hot divorcee? The silhouette is what fashion people are calling the “lampshade”—a statement hat (and we mean statement—go big or go home) paired with something melodramatic and floor-length. Think melodramatic, think theatrical, think “I’m about to get on a yacht, and everyone should know it.”

The key is this: it’s not minimizing. You’re not trying to disappear. You’re trying to take up space and look incredible while doing it.

The pieces you need:

Polka dots are having a MOMENT. Google searches for polka dots hit an all-time high in 2026, and honestly, it makes sense. There’s something inherently playful and retro about them—very divorcee. Whether it’s a polka dot sundress for the day or a polka dot tankini for the beach, commit to the print.

Lace, lace, and more lace. This is the divorcee fabric of the year. Lace midi skirts hit a 10-year high, and for good reason. There’s something inherently glamorous about lace—it says “I’m making an effort,” which is literally the whole point. Layer a lace camisole, or go full divorcee and wear a lace midi skirt solo.

Capris and cropped pants. If polka dots are the print of summer, capris are the silhouette. They’re retro, they’re a tiny bit cheeky, and they work with literally everything. The divorcee vibe? Pair them with a silk camisole, and you’re already there.

The shoes, because, of course:

Forget sky-high heels that make you miserable. Hot divorcee summer is about comfort, meeting glamour. Ballet flats are at a five-year high (and they’re cute), but kitten heels are absolutely having their moment—especially in mesh. If you want to feel elegant without sacrificing your feet, kitten heels are your new best friend.

Mary Jane shoes are also trending, and they have serious divorcee energy—a little bit schoolgirl, a little bit “I do what I want.”

The accessories:

This is where hot divorcee summer gets really fun. You’re going for a statement, not subtle.

Statement jewelry: Chunky necklaces hit an all-time high in search interest. Cuff bracelets, too. The divorcee doesn’t do delicate—she does bold. Stack your bangles, wear multiple rings, let people hear you coming from three blocks away.

Bags: Barrel bags and east-west bags are trending hard (90s energy, very divorcee). If you want something that screams “I have somewhere fabulous to be,” a barrel bag or east-west style is it.

Silk scarves: Searches for silk scarves hit an all-time high. A silk scarf tied around your neck, in your hair, or around your waist is peak divorcee. It’s elegant, it’s effortless, and it says, “I have traveled extensively and also have excellent taste.”

Hair and makeup, the vibe builders:

Modern shag haircuts and Italian bobs are trending (short, a little bit messy, very chic). Birkin bangs are a breakout search—because apparently, we’re all channeling quiet luxury meets vintage cinema.

For makeup, we’re talking bright—blue mascara, coral lipstick, polka dot nails (yes, really). The divorcee doesn’t do neutral and boring. She does color, texture, and “what if I just felt like wearing bright blue mascara to the grocery store?”

French tips are at an all-time high, by the way. Almond shape, orange accents—these tiny decisions are adding up to a whole mood.

The hat, obviously:

We’ve been dancing around this, but let’s be clear: you need a hat. A big one. Wide-brimmed. The bigger, the better. It can be straw, it can be felt, it can be whatever—but it needs to be LARGE. This is not a subtle accessory. This is a statement. This is you telling the world: “I’m about to have an excellent summer and I’m going to look good while doing it.”

The most important thing? You don’t have to be divorced.

Hot divorcee summer is an energy. Tatty Macleod has a boyfriend. The people wearing the big hats? Some are divorced, some are married, some are single, some are “introducing my husband as my first husband” as a bit. The point isn’t your marital status. The point is the vibe.

Remember: you’re done apologizing. You’re done shrinking. You’re done wearing beige because you thought it was “safe.” You’re wearing the outfit. You’re getting the good underwear. You’re ordering the wine. You’re taking up space and looking fabulous while you do it.

And that, amiga, is hot divorcee summer.

So go forth. Get the hat, the lace, AND the silk scarf. And remember: you don’t have to justify it to anyone, ever.

Welcome to summer 2026. We’re so glad you’re here.

More than one of us has lived with a diagnosis of polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), and if you grew up in Latin America, you were likely diagnosed at a very young age.

It’s a condition that affects one in eight women—about 170 million women worldwide. While symptoms vary, the most common include irregular or absent periods, increased facial and body hair, severe acne, weight gain, and dark skin patches.

Why the name was misleading

However, when male doctors first named the condition in 1935, they were convinced it was a disease of the ovaries. Over the years, research revealed that PCOS is actually caused by a hormonal imbalance, particularly involving insulin, which controls how the body manages all its fuels (sugars, proteins, and fats), and androgen hormones.

As The Guardian explained, the imbalance of these hormones affects multiple body systems, including metabolic, mental, skin, and reproductive health, as well as the risk of diabetes and heart disease.

Now, endocrinologists worldwide want to set the record straight.

The push to rename PCOS

For several years, researchers have debated renaming the condition. In 2012, a forum on PCOS organized by the U.S. National Institutes of Health recommended changing the name.

In a guidance document, the group explained that the name was “inaccurate” because it did not fully reflect the condition’s metabolic and endocrine characteristics, including the likelihood that it affects men as well.

Now, it’s official. The condition will henceforth be called Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome (PMOS)

The name change was published in The Lancet and announced at the European Congress of Endocrinology in Prague, following 14 years of collaboration between international societies and patient groups across six continents.

The renaming was spearheaded by endocrinologist Prof. Helena Teede, director of Melbourne’s Monash Center for Health Research and Implementation. For too long, experts, including Teede, say the misleading nature of the term “polycystic” in PCOS contributed to delayed diagnosis and inadequate medical care.

Announcing the new name at the congress, Teede said the term PCOS didn’t capture the “multi-system burden that people with this condition have suffered,” and that it “directs attention to only one organ.”

PMOS is hoped to better reflect the condition’s complex nature, which affects not only the reproductive system in people assigned female at birth but also metabolism and the risk of diabetes and cardiovascular disease.

As Teede told The Guardian, the new name “moves away from the incorrect focus on cysts … to recognizing this is a much broader condition.” The effects of PMOS on the body “are virtually all endocrine—hormonal,” she says.

How patients drove the change

Teede says patients instigated the name change.

“They wanted it fixed,” she says. “They know how much they have suffered because of the name, and they were really passionate. And that was what enabled us to pursue it.”

Many people go undiagnosed or are misdiagnosed, while many more are dissatisfied with their medical care and suffer severe stigma, the authors write. Even so, the effort to revise the term for the condition has stalled and restarted many times over the past two decades.

It’s taken more than a decade to bring it about, Teede says, adding: “The efforts here are unprecedented. We want this to stick and not just be an idea from a few experts, as it used to be. We used to never consider patient perspectives when we changed the name.”

Now the researchers hope that the name change will spur new studies on the syndrome, including its genetic components and potential treatments.

Teede explains that they “had to get everybody on board.” This meant significant involvement from 56 medical and patient societies in every region across all relevant disciplines, because so many different groups care for the condition.

Teede says: “We needed all those groups involved because we want every one of those groups and societies to own it in all regions of the world, and to actually drive the change. Otherwise, they don’t get the benefit.”

“While ‘reproductive’ may be a more accurate term to cover all the abnormalities in the ovary, as well as in the endometrium and in reproductive health during pregnancy, it also carries a very significant stigma,” Teede said.

What PCOS patients need to know

“There are parts of the world where labeling a woman as having a reproductive condition is directly linked to her value and worth in society, and the cultural implications were enormous,” Teede added.

“For that reason, we spent a great deal of time on this, both in the surveys and in the workshops. The agreed terms were polyendocrine, metabolic, and ovarian. The next step was to bring them together under a new name.”

“There was a lot of underlying concern about changing the name of the condition because it has been so neglected, so poorly diagnosed, so poorly researched, and so underfunded for so long that, quite rightly, patients and consumers were quite up in arms about the fact that they just wanted to get this right,” Teede says.

After a transition period, the new name will be fully implemented in the next update to international guidelines for managing the condition, to be published in 2028.

For years, Lena Dardelet has moved through Caribbean rhythms, Dominican folk traditions, the romantization of love á la française, and singer-songwriter intimacy. She is trilingual, a multi-instrumentalist, and has performed alongside everyone from Vicente García to iLe to Monsieur Periné. And through it all, she has antagonized the narrative that artistry should fold.

Instead, she has become an artist who loves her home while also being implicated in the forces changing it.

Now, with her recent work—songs and collaborations that move from Dominican folk tribute to bachata celebration to urban Latin experimentation, culminating in the seductive collaboration “Y Qué” with Martox—Lena is ready to show the world the product of her personal journey.

While her music has always been personal, and yes, political, she insists, without apology, that these things belong together.

The Thing About Coming From Everywhere.

Lena Dardelet was born into a peculiar position: rooted in privilege but also shaped by movement. French and Dominican. A child of multiple worlds who grew up in a beach town, which is to say, in a place constantly remade by forces larger than herself.

Her family’s background—connected to development—means she has spent her life aware of the cost of her own existence. The beaches she loves and the communities she comes from exist, in part, because of decisions her family made. Decisions that displaced people, that concentrated wealth, that transformed ecosystems.

She does not look away from this.

“Coming to terms with how different things can coexist,” she says carefully, “means understanding that I am on the privileged side of things and that as an adult I can choose to do things differently and take responsibility to care and do better.”

Far from self-flagellation, Lena’s reflection focuses on seeing one’s own implication without using that clarity as an excuse to do nothing.

And it has shaped not just her politics but her sound. The sensuality of her music—the way rhythm moves through her work—comes from the Caribbean. But the critical distance she maintains, the refusal to make that sensuality into eroticized fantasy, comes from knowing that the Caribbean is not a performative scenario. Nor is her experience.

“I do think inevitably art becomes referential and representative to the audience that consumes it. I think it all comes down to understanding the layers and complexities of these cultures and how places evolve with time. Although I have voiced some of the problems, I definitely tend to romanticize island life in my music,” she admits, “because I think that is part of the beauty as well. The Caribbean is often depicted and consumed as fantasy, and in my art, I like to include its various colors and try to see things as they are instead of categorizing them as ‘good’ or ‘bad’.”

What Stays Constant.

If you listen to Lena’s catalog—and it is genuinely wide and diverse—there is a paradox at its center.

“I believe the fusion of Dominican rhythms and/or narrative always resurfaces in some way,” she says. “The simplicity in my writing. And the overall sensual sound.”

The simplicity she mentions is its own kind of sophistication. Listen to her early work—Caja sin Oxígeno, for example—and you hear the beating heart of Latin Pop, a massive genre that has survived decades.

Then, you listen to her most recent work, “PA’ QUE BAILEMOS,” and you feel DR pouring through her veins.

“I think my eclectic music invites people to embrace the richness and layers of Caribbean music,” she explains, “as well as invites people to see the world with more softness, while also [embracing] the strength of a feminine perspective.

The Personal and the Political Cannot Be Separated.

Lena has been outspoken about catcalling, environmental destruction, and gentrification. She has used her voice to advocate for women’s rights, to challenge violence, and to insist that the world can be different from what it is.

However, she lives inside a contradiction: she is also implicated in the very systems she critiques. Her family built the infrastructure that transformed the Dominican coast. Ergo, she grew up with the privilege that the development she now questions brought.

“What my music is arguing for right now,” she says, “is inviting people to embrace the richness and layers of Caribbean music.”

What An Artist Becomes When She Refuses to Simplify Herself.

When asked about where her writing comes from, Lena describes an interwoven process.

“I feel like each song begins from a different place. Every creative experience pulls from different threads. Sometimes it’s a melody. Sometimes it’s lyrics. Sometimes it’s a concept. In terms of making sense of myself, I try to be true to where I’m at and what moves me in that present moment.”

Her collaboration with Martox on “Y Qué” is a good example. With the softness of the morning sea, the song calls for the simplicity of life, the one that comes after the storm. It is her saying: I can be soft and strong. I can love this place and question it at the same time. As they sing, no es tan complicado.

This is what happens when an artist turns her gaze inward and outward at the same time. When she understands that the only way to honor a place is to see it clearly.

The 2026 Met Gala gave us sculptural gowns, anatomical references, couture-level drama, and enough “Fashion Is Art” discourse to keep the group chats alive for weeks.

But one of the night’s most quietly striking moments of beauty did not scream for attention. It elegantly braided itself into the conversation.

Argentinian-Spanish model, entrepreneur, influencer, and social media personality Georgina Rodríguez arrived on the red carpet, bringing Old World glamour we loved. It gave angelic energy with enough undone texture to keep it from feeling precious.

And according to celebrity hairstylist Glen Oropeza, that was exactly the point.

Oropeza, who created Rodríguez’s Met Gala hair, spoke with FIERCE about the references, last-minute creative pivots, and exact products behind the style. The final result looked effortless, but the process involved secrecy, trust, Monica Bellucci references, and the secret touch: Latino taste.

Georgina Rodríguez’s Met Gala hair started with secrecy and a romantic pivot.

For Oropeza, a night like the Met Gala carries unique pressure because the image travels instantly and lasts forever.

Working with Rodríguez and designer Ludovic de Saint Sernin made the process even more layered.

“Working with a new client and designer always makes the Met feel different,” Oropeza told us. “With Georgina and Ludovic, everything was secretive — I didn’t see the dress until a couple of days before.”

That secrecy shaped the creative process from the start. The hair could not overpower the look, but it also could not fade into the background. It had to speak the same language as the styling without competing for attention.

“We tried a few directions but ultimately landed on something more romantic,” Oropeza said. “We channeled angelic energy, inspired by references like the Virgin of Fátima, and I wanted the look to feel soft, feminine, and elevated the moment she stepped out.”

The Met Gala look honored Georgina Rodríguez’s confidence.

Many celebrity beauty moments aim to create a persona through hair and makeup.

Oropeza saw the opposite with Rodríguez.

“One thing I’ve learned about Georgina is that her confidence leads the process,” he said. “She doesn’t rely on hair or makeup to feel her best — she already has it.”

That explains why the final look did not need to be aggressively styled to feel expensive.

“When she has a strong point of view, it translates into the final look,” Oropeza said. “This was about honoring her natural glamour while leaning into something softer and more romantic than people might expect.”

Monica Bellucci helped shape Georgina Rodríguez’s Met Gala hair.

“At first, I was only given one reference: ‘Monica Bellucci,’” Oropeza said.

That makes sense. Bellucci has long represented a very specific kind of beauty: sensual, cinematic, womanly, polished, and never overly eager. For Rodríguez, who carries a similar public aura of glamour and self-possession, the reference gave Oropeza a strong foundation.

“From there, I built a mood board around iconic Monica hairstyles since she defines a timeless European standard of beauty that Georgina also embodies,” he said.

Before the Met Gala, Oropeza and Rodríguez tested a few directions during a shoot. These included “a middle-parted bun and a classic blowout,” he said, and they initially believed they had found the final look.

Then the day of the event arrived. And Rodríguez changed the direction.

“But on the day, Georgina wanted to pivot to something more relaxed and romantic,” Oropeza said. “We collaborated in real time, pulling references and refining the idea, and landed on a soft, loose braid.”

That kind of pivot can look casual from the outside. In reality, it requires what great red carpet beauty depends on: trust. The stylist must quickly understand the client’s instinct, translate it into a durable look, and ensure it photographs well from every angle under unforgiving lighting.

“That flexibility and trust in the moment is something people don’t always see behind the scenes,” Oropeza said.

Georgina Rodríguez’s braid worked because it looked lived-in, not careless.

The success of this look came down to balance.

Too polished, the braid could have looked bridal or overly literal against the angelic reference. Too undone, it could have clashed with the scale of the Met Gala. Oropeza landed in the middle: textured, soft, loose, but still intentional.

The braid needed movement but not frizz. Volume but not heaviness. Pieces pulled out around the face, but not random flyaways. Texture that felt romantic rather than messy, and a structure that could last all night without making the hair stiff.

That is the hidden labor Latinos know well. When a look appears effortless, someone worked hard to make it that way.

The exact products behind Georgina Rodríguez’s Met Gala hair

Oropeza built the look with Nexxus products designed to prep, smooth, texturize, and hold the final shape.

He began with damp hair, using Nexxus Keraphix Liquid Crystallizer Treatment and Nexxus MVP Styler Multitasking Cream. Then he used the Sutra Infrared Blow Dryer to rough-dry the roots and mid-lengths.

Then came the smoothing step.

Oropeza used the Arachne ShineBoost brush with the Sutra dryer to create a smooth finish, then switched to the Sutra Interchangeable Spring Curler Set with the one-inch barrel to add texture and volume.

That curl foundation mattered because the braid needed body before it could look soft. A loose braid without prep falls flat quickly. A loose braid with texture has shape, dimension, and movement.

To build airy texture, Oropeza applied Nexxus Air Shape Workable Hold Texture Spray, adding volume, texture, and hold. Then he created the soft, loose braid, pulled out loose pieces, curled them, and finished with Nexxus Maximum Finish Firm Hold Hairspray.

How to get Georgina Rodríguez’s Met Gala hair at home

The key is to avoid making the braid too perfect.

Start with damp hair and apply a repairing treatment or smoothing cream through the lengths to achieve a polished, not dry texture. Rough-dry the roots first, then smooth the hair with a brush and dryer to create a clean base.

Next, use a one-inch curling iron or wand to add loose bends through the hair. The goal is not perfect curls but movement. The braid needs something to hold onto, and those bends help create the soft, romantic texture that made Rodríguez’s look work.

After curling, apply workable texture spray for volume and grip. Then create a loose braid, keeping tension relaxed. Pull out a few face-framing pieces and curl them lightly to feel intentional. Finish with strong-hold hairspray, but keep your hand light. The look should hold but still feel touchable.

That is the difference between “I braided my hair quickly” and “I am channeling Met Gala Georgina with angelic Monica Bellucci energy.”

Glen Oropeza’s path to the Met Gala started by accident.

Oropeza’s own story adds another layer to the look, as his path into celebrity hair did not begin with a perfectly mapped-out Hollywood plan.

“I actually got into hair by accident,” he said. “I was working at a salon during my third year of college and became really curious about everything — asking nonstop questions about techniques and decisions.”

That curiosity led him to enroll at the Aveda Institute in Philadelphia. Around the same time, reality television helped him realize celebrity hairstyling could become a real career path.

“I was watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians and saw celebrity hairstylists being credited on screen — that was a turning point where I realized that was the path I wanted,” he said.

After about six years working in salons, Oropeza moved into celebrity styling full-time. His first major client came through a referral from Jen Atkin to Chrissy Teigen, a connection he said helped launch his career.

“Over time, I refined my aesthetic, and now I’m known for polished, refined hair that enhances the natural beauty of my clients,” he said.

That aesthetic came through clearly in Rodríguez’s Met Gala look. The braid did not try to turn her into someone else. It enhanced what was already there, then softened it through romance, texture, and reference.