Selena: A Visual Dictionary
She was Mexican American and proud of her Tejano heritage, but she did not learn Spanish until she was older and made no secret that it was imperfect. Still, Selena managed to make it look effortless.
The singer died on the cusp of even bigger success, working on her fifth studio album, intended to be her English-language crossover. While it's hard not to think what she would have accomplished had she lived, Selena left behind a very stylish legacy. From her signature red lips and chunky hoops to her instantly recognizable purple jumpsuit, Selena is undoubtedly a superstar, for her time and for ours. Here's a look at the visual signifiers that made Selena into the cultural figure she is today.
The Bigger, the Better
I could never relate to the girls in my elementary school class who yearned to have their ears pierced. I'd had mine pierced since I was 7 months old, and by age 2, I already owned my first pair of gold hoops — they were mini, but now I marvel that my tiny toddler lobes once supported them. My household was only half Latino, but in the 1990s, the image of Selena loomed large, and it would have been impossible as I grew older not to have at least an oblique awareness of how crucial hoop earrings were to her signature look.
It's hard to separate them out from the other essential elements of her style: How can you have hoops but not red lipstick? How can you have red lipstick without the counterbalance of dark brows and wispy bangs? The hoops could be gold or silver, thin or thick, but they were always oversize, and they were often her only accessory. She wore them with her hair in loose waves or pulled back in a bun, with bluejeans or with one of her bedazzled bustiers. They grounded her, as jewelry tends to do, but also reminded you of her glamour and sexuality.
When she appeared on the cover of 'Amor Prohibido,' her fourth studio album, released in 1994, the hoops she paired with a ruffled white top and heavy black leather jacket created an indelible image. With its mix of femininity and toughness, it spoke to young girls like me, who aspired not just to have bigger and bigger hoops as they grew older, but also to be as self-possessed as Selena looked wearing them.
— Marie Solis
Glamorous Yet Approachable
Selena showcased a range of distinct hairstyles throughout her career, but one element that remained largely consistent was her signature long black wavy hair, often paired with styled bangs.
Onstage, she frequently leaned into a rocker-inspired aesthetic, wearing her hair down with voluminous bangs. This became one of her go-to concert looks, most memorably seen during her final performance, at the Houston Astrodome. She sometimes wore her hair in loose curls styled in a half ponytail, her bangs pulled back. Her naturally curly hair would become part of her performances, swaying and flowing as she danced and spun.
For more elegant moments, Selena favored towering updos, often featuring a delicate strand of curled bangs on her forehead. This iconic look is immortalized in her 'No Me Queda Más' music video. At times, she opted for a sleeker, simpler style, pulling her hair back into a slicked bun.
When she won her Grammy in 1994, Selena wore her hair in a messy, teased and curled updo: the picture of glamorous yet approachable charm.
— Frank Rojas
A Red for Every Occasion
In a time when beauty of a more diminutive sort was in — meager little pencil-line arches for eyebrows, slender hips, minuscule waists — Selena's lips, supple and coated in red, were not just part of her fiercely proud Mexican American image, they became her signature look.
On full display were lipsticks in cherry red, brown-hued brick and soft rose. Sometimes glossy, sometimes matte, they were always pouty and rimmed with a liner a few shades darker, closer to that of a glass of merlot (and still imitated today).
But apparently, she did not tend toward transfer-proof varieties. Selena was known for leaving smears of lipstick on her microphone, from holding it so close to her mouth, and the last one she used became known as 'Selena's last kiss.' It's on display, still caked in burgundy, at the Selena Museum in Corpus Christi, Texas.
Selena's image was so synonymous with a bold lip that in 2015, her fans started an online petition urging MAC Cosmetics to create a commemorative makeup line. More than 37,000 signatures and one social media campaign later (#SelenaQuintanillaForMAC), the company heeded the call. The collection, in violet packaging — a homage to the purple spandex set Selena wore for her Astrodome concert — sold out in hours.
— Rachel Sherman
Destined to Be a Showstopper
It was the most famous purple outfit in pop culture since 'Purple Rain.' Selena may have made her name as a singer, but she had a sideline in fashion design — she had her own stores and often sketched her own clothes — and she loved a jumpsuit. So when she made one in her favorite color for her 1995 concert at the Houston Astrodome in front of a record-setting 61,000 fans, with bell-bottoms, a bellybutton-baring cross-body top and a bolero, the look was destined to be a showstopper.
What the artist could not have known was that it would also become a symbol. She was fatally shot a month after she took the Astrodome stage, and as a result, her jumpsuit, which seemed to embody the joyful, barrier-breaking verve that characterized her music, has served as her epigraph. She was buried in a similar purple dress with an almost identical silhouette, and when a limited-edition Selena doll was created in 1996, it, too, was wearing the purple jumpsuit. (The dolls can be found on eBay going for hundreds of dollars.)
The original jumpsuit is preserved for all to see in the Selena Museum, and a replica worn by Jennifer Lopez in the 1997 Selena biopic went on display in the Warner Bros. Studio Tour in Hollywood, Calif., in 2022. At this point, the jumpsuit has become so synonymous with Selena's memory that whenever someone decides to pay homage to the artist, whether for an anniversary or a costume party, whether Kim Kardashian or Demi Lovato, it's almost always the purple jumpsuit they choose.
— Vanessa Friedman
'A Bra, With Little Sprinkly Things on It'
Whether tasseled, bejeweled or otherwise, bustiers figured into some of Selena's most celebrated looks. They were not just costumes — they embodied her captivating stage presence, sensuality and creativity. She tricked out most of them herself, inspiring fans to take a D.I.Y. approach when recreating her style. Selena could leave things to the last minute: According to her sister, Suzette, she once sewed pearls onto a white bustier right before a show.
These form-fitting garments came in a range of sequins and colors, from a ruby-red-and-silver version with intersecting straps to a black top adorned with metallic, coin-like silver spurs. But perhaps her most famous variation was a black lingerie-inspired bustier with iridescent rhinestones that covered one cup entirely while the other had an intricate design that was missing some beading. The asymmetry, the story goes, was a result of Selena's running out of rhinestones — an accidental detail that only elevated the look's place in history.
Today, the bustier is central to her legend, but as a garment, there admittedly was not much to it. As Edward James Olmos, playing her father, noted in the 1997 movie: 'It's a bra, with little sprinkly things on it.'
— Frank Rojas
Honoring Her Tejano Roots
A large silver rhinestone buckle or a gold one with layered hanging chains — Selena's belt buckles were more about style than functional, but they perfectly complemented her signature bustiers. She typically wore them with tightfitting high-waisted pants and either stilettos or — what else? — cowboy boots.
The belt buckle offered a glimpse into Selena's Tejano heritage. Growing up in Corpus Christi, many of her performances across the Lone Star State took place at state fairs and rodeos. Long associated with cowboy culture, the belt buckle was traditionally worn by men as a symbol of power, opulence and an essential element of masculine fashion.
For Selena, the accessory signified confidence and cultural pride — turning heads while paying homage to her roots. She often personalized her oversize buckles with rhinestones, sometimes with the help of her mother. These sparkling details were not just for show; they were extensions of her identity, blending regional tradition with glamour.
Her most recognizable belt was simple: a black leather strap with iridescent sequins adorning the buckle.
— Frank Rojas
A Selena for Everyone
If you took high school Spanish at any point in the past quarter century, there's a good chance you had a 'Selena' day or two. Pop in the VHS, turn off the lights and let 127 minutes of PG-rated cultural enrichment wash over you (potentially over the course of several classes, as your harried teacher's lesson plan demands).
The movie, which was written and directed by Gregory Nava, was notable for its quick turnaround time. Released less than two years after the singer's death, it deified Selena with that particular strain of immortality that only a Hollywood portrayal can offer. So for many students who — for shame! — might not have been completely up on the Tejano music scene, Jennifer Lopez was not just playing Selena: She was Selena.
While Ms. Lopez's 1997 interpretation of the young star might be the most indelible, it certainly was not the final word. The Mexican American actress Christian Serratos starred in Netflix's 18-episode 'Selena: The Series' in 2020, and Selena tribute acts continue to do brisk business in the Southwest. ('I've studied her so much over the years,' the Selena impersonator Honey Andrews told KSAT-TV in San Antonio. 'From every performance, I know every little breath, every little hand gesture.')
But some of Selena's most enthusiastic imitators do not earn a dime for their recreations. After all, with so many instantly recognizable visual touchstones, the singer's look can be replicated with a reasonable degree of fidelity without breaking the bank — the Halloween-costume definition of an icon. With respect to Ms. Lopez's turn, Selena portrayals have long since been democratized.
— Louis Lucero II
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Los Angeles Times
19 minutes ago
- Los Angeles Times
Snow Tha Product blasts Latino Trump voters in new video for ‘Sabado'
Latino Trump voters are put on notice in Snow Tha Product's new music video for 'Sabado.' In a riotous three-minute clip, the Mexican American MC shows up to her fictional family's carne asada with an envelope in hand, revealing which family member voted for President Trump. The suspense builds, and needless to say, things get a little heated. 'Before the party begins, I want it to be known that one of us voted for Trump,' Snow sings, ominously holding up a white envelope that indicates who it is. As the tempo picks up, Snow begins to point fingers. This prompts a chaotic scene amid the crowd of attendees, which include a handful of Latino influencers and media personalities — among them queer couple Trino Garcia and Adam Vasquez, Brown Bag podcast hosts Letty Peniche and Do Know, TikToker Jesus Acevedo and more. 'There's the aunt with corn-silk hair that raised spoiled kids,' she sings in Spanish, over a Jersey club beat. 'The cousin traumatized over being American, with a paisa face that voted for Trump ... There's the foo that says the N-word, f— no sabo idiot ... A crybaby old man who always makes fun of me for being a lesbian, [but] when he gets drunk he's gayer than me.' In the song, Snow admits she won't open the envelope, as opening someone else's mail is a federal crime. But she does have her suspicions set on one person: the cousin who got married to a white man in order to have white children to better the race, or 'mejorar la raza.' It's a controversial age-old term that has been used to justify colorism in the Latino community. The party ends in a boozy frenzy, with cake plastered across some faces and an ICE patrol piñata that is beaten to smithereens by the family. The ending also gives way to a teaser for Snow's upcoming song, titled 'Domingo,' which will premiere Aug. 27. This isn't the California-born rapper's first attempt at critiquing the fraught political dynamics of late. Last week she released a cover of Molotov's rockero classic 'Frijolero,' alongside Mexican singer Belinda. The original 2003 track condemns racism, including the use of the word 'beaner,' which is often deployed as a racial slur against Mexican immigrants. It also critiques U.S. involvement in drug trafficking and foreign wars. Both new releases come at a time when Latino communities have been targeted by ICE agents, particularly in Southern California.
Los Angeles Times
an hour ago
- Los Angeles Times
Irvine Valley College writing professor pens a new chapter, just before retirement
The start of the school year is usually associated with new possibilities, an opportunity to learn, a chance to grow. For Lisa Alvarez, it signals a final chapter. The Irvine Valley College English instructor is retiring this year after 33 years at 'the little college in the Orange groves,' as she lovingly deemed it when she began her career there. 'When I arrived, it really was a very little college surrounded by orange groves, and people did not know where it was,' she said. 'Since then, it has become one of the most highly regarded community colleges in the state.' Alvarez has made a home with her husband, Andrew Tonkovich, a retired UC Irvine English lecturer and founder of the literary journal Citric Acid, in Modjeska Canyon. She has edited anthologies, including 'Orange County: A Literary Field Guide,' and her work has been published across the West. She uses art as both performance and activism and each summer leads writing workshops in the High Sierra. 'My colleagues and I, we are so proud to be part of the transformative journey for our students,' Alvarez said. 'Community colleges change people's lives. 'Whether they are right out of high school, or in high school, or older returning students, new immigrants, the whole world is there.' But this year's autumn breeze doesn't just bring finality of a teaching career for Alvarez; it is also turning the page of a new chapter. Alvarez has published her first book. 'My joke is, 'I am a debut author at 64, exactly how I planned it,' ' she said. 'Some Final Beauty and Other Stories' is a collection focusing on characters who are engaged with their communities, mainly in Southern California, with some centered in Orange County. The stories are their own pieces of activism, which isn't an accident. 'At first, it was going to be a collection of stories set in L.A. about female activists in the 1980s, and you can still see some of those in there,' Alvarez said. 'But it was basically going to be an homage to the best girlfriends a young person ever had … then it kept growing in different ways, and then I moved to Orange County. ' As time went on, Alvarez met more people — characters who found their way into her book — and collected more experiences that she wanted to share. 'I am happy for my characters,' she said. 'They get to be together forever.' Alvarez began the earliest story in the book nearly 13 years ago. The cover art is by activist-artist Andrea Bowers. The collection begins with 'Everyone Was Singing 'Freiheit,'' in which a former addict learns lessons by spending time in two different rooms of the same building. In 'We Told You So,' a grieving widow in an Orange County canyon seeks out an unlike-minded neighbor to help him heal. In the brief but powerful 'Cielito Lindo,' a daughter spends time with her boorish father, contemplating mistakes. The people Alvarez writes feel as real as the person in the car next to you on the 5 Freeway. While it is true this is her last year at IVC, retirement seems like the wrong word. Even though her teaching career is ending, her career as an author is just beginning. And she is also looking forward to returning to the activism she had less time for when she had a full-time job. She feels the country needs people fighting for justice more than ever. 'I imagined when this book was picked up by the University of Nevada Press a couple of years ago that the stories of activists from the Reagan era to the first Trump term would be sort of wistful, nostalgic things of the past … but now it seems, unfortunately, even more resonant,' Alvarez said. 'These stories remind me of what I used to do and what I will need to do again.' Alvarez never completely abandoned her need to stand up for others. She leaves behind a legacy at Irvine Valley College that includes two programs that have had a profound impact on many students and will continue doing so in her absence. Alvarez has led what she calls a 'small but vibrant' creative writing community at IVC connected to the campus literary journal, the Ear. 'It provides opportunities for full-time students and occasional students to do what I have done with this book, which is to begin to realize their dreams of becoming writers and finding an audience for the important stories they have to share,' she said. Alvarez has also been instrumental in the Puente Program, an academic, counseling and mentoring program that serves educationally under-served college students. 'The program has been around for 40 years but it has only recently been at IVC,' she said. 'It is celebrating its fifth year.' Historically, the program has served first-generation Latinos, providing support that helps them make the eventual transfer to four-year colleges and universities. 'We know if those students can get through the first year of community college, they are most likely to continue on and transfer,' Alvarez said. 'I take them through their first year of English classes, and I work together with a counselor and an ethnic studies professor to provide an enriched curriculum that focuses on the Latinx experience.' On Aug. 16, Alvarez plans to sign books at Libro Mobile, which is run by former student of hers, Sarah Rafael Garcia, and return to the independent bookstore Sept. 28 for a Brunch, Bites and Books event in celebration of 'Women in a Golden State: California Poets at 60 and Beyond,' a collection of poems and micro-essays she contributed to along with other locals writers, including Mary Camarillo. After that, there are more book signings and, of course, more writing planned. 'As a woman of 64, I think there is still time,' she said. 'There is still work to do.'
Buzz Feed
2 hours ago
- Buzz Feed
Hawaiian Woman Response To Chief Of War Language Complaints
Earlier this month, Chief of War premiered on Apple TV+ and completely blew me away. The historical drama focuses on the unification of the Hawaiian islands, mainly from the point of view of Kaʻiana (played by Jason Momoa). As a Polynesian woman, I grew emotional seeing Hawaiian history and culture represented on screen. And so well done, too! From the cinematography to the acting to the costumes, you can feel how much love and care went into the making of this show. Since Chief of War is Jason's longtime passion project, I wouldn't expect anything less! And to hear all the actors speaking ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi (the Hawaiian language) — goosebumps! I never in a million years imagined we'd get a show like this on a major streaming platform in a Pasifika language. What a powerful decision to kick off the series in the language these historical figures actually spoke, one with a complicated history that's being revitalized today. As of the time of writing, Apple TV+ has released three episodes, with more English in the most recent episode due to the historical events explored in the show. So, imagine my surprise when I came across quite a few social media posts criticizing Chief of War for not being in English. Some people were apparently annoyed about reading subtitles, with this X (formerly Twitter) user writing, "What morons make a show for an American audience and put it in a completely foreign language. If I wanted to read, it would be a book." Note: The image of Jason Momoa in the original tweet was replaced here due to photo rights. As more and more of these complaints made the rounds online, some Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) social media users began pushing back against this terrible take. One such person was Lily Hiʻilani Okimura, a 27-year-old substitute teacher and content creator. In a video posted to TikTok, she criticized the above tweet and explained some Americans might not be the target audience, but that doesn't mean other cultures don't deserve TV shows in their own language. In another video, she gave her review of the first few episodes and emphasized the importance of ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi in the series, saying, "It is not treated as a background element. It is foundational to the storytelling." To learn more, I reached out to Lily, who was "extremely impressed" by Chief of War. She told BuzzFeed, "After watching the first couple episodes and hearing it completely in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, my jaw was dropped, and I felt as if I was immersed into the world. Of course, the show will eventually transition more into English as the story progresses and events in our history takes place, but having the beginning of this show and whole episodes be set in Hawaiian was amazing. And ESPECIALLY for Apple TV+?! Wouldn't have thought they would've approved. Jason Momoa and [series co-creator] Thomas Paʻa Sibbett must've fought really hard for this!" Lily began learning ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi in 2020 while studying for her MFA in Hawaiian Theatre. Not only does the Hawaiian language in the show give her the opportunity to follow along and practice, but it "just makes sense" due to the plot and setting, she said. Additionally, this "further normalizes and legitimizes ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi to the outside world and for folks who may have only heard a few of the words in our language like 'aloha' and 'mahalo.'" "Hawaiian is a real language, a Polynesian language from the Austronesian language family," she continued. "It was spoken in our lands for generations before colonialism, and we were forced to speak only English. The Hawaiian language ban affected many ʻohana, including my own, where they couldn't speak it at schools or in public in order to assimilate into this new (forced) American way of living. I'm the first in my family to relearn our mother tongue, and I hope to teach it to my future children, enroll them into Hawaiian Immersion school, and that they will be fluent, and they can teach me!" "Having the show in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi also brings cultural authenticity, allowing viewers to experience the story through the same lens and worldview our kūpuna (ancestors) did, instead of filtering it through English for outside convenience. It contributes to language revitalization by making ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi visible and functional in a mainstream setting, inspiring more people to learn and speak it. For fluent speakers and immersion students, hearing the language on screen validates their identity and shows that their voices belong in the global media landscape. Just like Korean, Spanish, or French films, it reminds the world that Hawaiian deserves the SAME respect as any other global language." As far as the backlash goes, Lily thinks the complainers are "extremely uncultured and need to get out more." She continued, "There are English subtitles! Can these people not read or what?" before pointing out several examples of other languages in pop culture, from anime to Star Trek's Spock speaking Klingon to Parasite, which won the Oscar for Best Picture in 2020. "We share this planet with billions of people, coming from different backgrounds and cultures and lived experiences. How boring would it be to only experience and consume art and media that only reflects one narrow worldview? Art, history, and storytelling lose so much richness when they're stripped of the language that shaped them. ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi isn't just a translation option; it's the lens, the rhythm, and the worldview of our people. English was forced here through colonization, and for decades, speaking Hawaiian was punished. Choosing to tell a Hawaiian story in Hawaiian is a deliberate act of resistance and cultural restoration. Complaining about that because it's 'inconvenient' for you isn't just lazy — it's participating in the same erasure that tried to kill our language in the first place." Lily hopes that Chief of War will open the door to more TV shows and movies diving into Hawaiian history and mythology, especially in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi. "Thus, more opportunities for Kānaka Maoli to tell our stories! More, new, and fresh faces! Maybe an actual TV and film industry here in the islands that's Hawaiian-centered." "E ola ka ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi! The Hawaiian language shall live!" she concluded. To learn more about Kānaka Maoli culture and issues, be sure to follow Lily on TikTok and Instagram! And you can watch Chief of War on Apple TV+ here.
