925 a Las 3 De La Mañana
Written by Maria Daniela Hernandez De Niz
Photographed by Darwin Alarcon Rodriguez
To be completely honest, I never imagined myself with piercings or tattoos growing up, it’s something I sort of fell into and grew to appreciate deeply based on its many nuances. I’ve tried to make sure every piercing I have is intentionally placed and as perfectly aligned with who I am as much as possible. Every detail, down to the jewelry within each of them.
In the industry, it’s easy to admire the beauty of both the piercings and their beholders, but outside of this community, rarely do you see beautifully adorned people in the media. If there are modded people, they’re tattooed, as opposed to pierced. I want to be the representation that I seek. I want to be the first-generation Mexican-American who broke from many societal and cultural expectations in ways that surprised even themselves. I want to show that we are allowed to dream and want better for ourselves, not just make better for others.
We’re taught, subtly or not, that we are undeserving of dreaming, and we must work hard not in order to attain better but rather, simply survive and fly under any radar. Sure, surviving is important, but we deserve more. I deserve more. This is only the beginning. I can’t explain it but it feels right. My gut is telling me I’m on the verge of something big, so I’m going to try.
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When I first moved to Seattle, I got my first industry job at a piercing and tattoo shop. I learned that piercing is a deeply nuanced practice that has roots in many pre-colonial cultures. It was a commonplace, a rite of passage, a sign of pride and dignity, and an adornment to the body in order to enhance it in a way that represents your individuality. Since then, I’ve spent the past 2 years getting pierced by people I deeply respect and trust as intentionally as possible and my setup is entirely representative of who I am.
I still dream of modeling and I’ve not failed in noticing how the fashion industry has taken influence from the piercing industry, only they’re doing it all wrong, placing fake metallic beads on the face and body in ways piercings would never actually be viable to give their look an edge when they could just put someone like me in that place, someone who understands the nuance and the maintenance of living with what they see strictly as an aesthetic and not a ritual.
Beauty is an interesting thing. It is entirely subjective, yet when we think of it, we have our preconceived notions of what it means and what it looks because of the influence of media. Why not show somebody like me? Someone who has the face of all their ancestors compounded into every one of their features and adornments of the highest quality jewelry they can find to compliment the contours of their face?
I was scared to try; fearful that I don’t have a place for the lack of representation in every industry for people who look like me. Why not try to be that representation? Be that person, the face that no one would imagine, and create an entirely reimagined, yet completely unoriginal, beauty standard.
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I’ve wanted to model since I first learned to walk. There are pictures of me as a toddler posing in all the outfits my mom had bought me with a sparkle in my eye and the smile to go with it. Growing up my mom and I would watch “Nuestra Belleza Latina”, and she’d say to me “deberias hacer eso cuando estés de edad mija…” but I never did. I never wanted to. I just wanted my beauty to be validated and appreciated beyond the scope of my family's praise.
When I started school, I was bullied for my body hair. This was something that I never thought to be ashamed of. Everyone I knew prior to school had body hair. For years I was convinced that I was anything but beautiful and as a result, I eventually I started to alter my appearance in ways I had never imagined. I started dying my hair in bright colors before shaving my head completely to do bold designs. Shortly after I started getting piercings.
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Being a first-generation Mexican-American means not being allowed to dream, not being permitted to desire or strive for self-improvement, as we are subtly or overtly shown that we are undeserving. However, I am tired, and so are many of us. I am tired of succumbing to the idea that my only option is to work tirelessly, to the point where I don’t have the time or energy to dream. Instead, I am choosing to dream—dreaming so big that it may sound crazy to those whose dreams are still in orbit. This marks the start, where I come face to face with my dreams, despite the fear and insecurities, despite the external factors. It's about me, my dreams, and the support of others with similar aspirations.