To me, my mom has always been the most beautiful woman in the world. When I was little, I’d rummage through her makeup (and come out clown-faced), waddle around in her high heels, and put on runway shows with my little sister, styled entirely from her closet. I was obsessed with her soft mint silks and the ‘90s maternity tops that fit me like maxi dresses. I’d watch her pop vitamin E pills and spread the oil across her face, pour paraffin wax over her arms, play meditative music, and brush her hair 100 times before bed. When I’d ask why she was so beautiful, she’d always say, “porque mi mami es bella y ella me enseño.”
