Buena, Bonita, y Barata

Self-portraits that challenge and subvert the expectations placed upon Colombian women, reclaiming control over how we are seen and represented.

As a Colombian woman, I have grown up with very specific expectations of the kind of woman I should be. Sexy, joyful, warm and serviceable, maternal but in a hot way, strong but submissive, to a god, a man, or both. Buena, Bonita, y Barata, which as a title refers to a commonly used expression in Colombian culture when people want to buy something that is Good, Pretty, and Cheap, they look for something with the three B’s (bueno, bonito, y barato), is a project where I am reversing the codes that have been forced onto me and immersing myself in the different symbols of how Colombian women exist and have been represented through photographic self portraits.

I am taking these symbols and subverting them, enacting them, letting them hold a weight on me, holding my own weight on them, playing with them, letting them define me and simultaneously redefining their power and meaning.

Images of horses filled the spaces of the men I grew up with, my father’s, uncles’, and grandpa’s farms all had different kinds of paintings of horses, in addition to the real life horses that lived in their farms. A symbol of power and masculinity. For winning or for pleasure, I never really knew.

When you’re a pre teen girl in Colombia about to do your first communion at church, you should also start thinking about how your body is going to look in that white pseudo bridal dress, that’s why wearing a Made in Colombia Faja Compression Bodyshaper under it would be the smart choice. While you’re in the church hungry and trying to breathe, try to remember the original sin was a woman feeding herself. 

When you’re a teenage girl in Colombia, your quinceañera gift can be anything from a horse to a nose job, and in some cases, a boob job. Boob jobs were the one cosmetic procedure that my mother said she would allow me to do, probably because she had one as well. When she had her breasts done, my dad paid for them with a horse. A way of telling the plastic surgeon that he would make him more of a man if he made his woman more of a woman. I never got mine done. 

When you’re 18 (or earlier, but hush), you can start your career as a webcam model, one of the most popular jobs in the country, as the second-highest number of webcam models are located in Colombia. This demand for Colombian bodies translates in the real world too, with locals and tourists consistently trying to find women to either fuck, marry, or kill, or all of the above. 

My gestures come from memories, traditional representations I learned of growing up, such as Fernando Botero’s paintings of prostitutes or sculptures that showcase a naked Simon Bolivar liberating America, a symbol that transforms itself when a female body reenacts it, as well as personal experiences and stories of Colombian women that have died violently because of their sex and nationality. 

I am showcasing not only the everlasting colonial violence Colombian female bodies have always been subjected to but simultaneously reappropriating the narrative around them and their portrayal, playing the muse, model, photographer, stylist, makeup artist, and art director. Growing up in Colombia forced me to have perceptions of my body beyond my control and be aware of how much Colombian female bodies are glorified and sexualized, both by local and foreign men. The violence against them, against us, is a constant reminder of how little our lives are worth beyond fulfilling a man’s needs or expectations. I’m interested in reclaiming and appropriating the wounds left behind as a way to resist them. I am commanding ownership and questioning who and what the female form exists to serve.