Grandma Chic
My Grandmother and I
After the world watches Benito bring Spanish-language music, culture, and pride to the Super Bowl halftime stage, I find myself thinking about what it means to honor my own roots to live in more than one language, more than one story, more than one home.
My grandmother’s home taught me care.
My mother’s home taught me choice.
My own home teaches me continuity.
This is not about style or nostalgia.
It’s about family, language, identity, and belonging, not backward, not forward, but alive in the present.
I was born in Spain.
I’m American.
I carry Venezuelan roots.
I’ve lived in many places and moved more times than I can count. Spanish is not just an accent for me it is memory, intimacy, instinct. English has shaped my work, my voice, and the way I move through the world. I am not one or the other. I am all of it, at once and yes, with an accent.
Grandma Chic is my way of honoring where I come from not as nostalgia, but as continuity.
The language I speak, the objects I live with, the way I mix past and present they all come from the same place: identity that doesn’t ask permission.
I’ve always said that home is where I live. Now I understand why that has always felt true. I carry my most precious treasures with me from one place to another emotional, cultural, tactile and they integrate with the new and the unexpected. And slowly, they become home again.
For me, Grandma Chic is memory.
For my mother, it is life lived.
For my daughter, it is discovery.
And yet, it is all the same story told from different distances.
If any part of this feels familiar if you carry more than one language, more than one home, more than one version of yourself this is for you.
When we say grandma, we are not speaking about age. We are speaking about time. About hands that touched things often. About objects that stayed. About beauty that was never rushed.
This is why Grandma Chic keeps returning.
It is not about going backwards.
It is about remembering what mattered.
Objects made to last.
Textures made to be touched.
Homes made for living, not performing.
Grandma Chic is the quiet beauty that connects women across generations — not through trends, but through care, ritual, and permanence.
And somehow, it always feels modern again.
My mom in Bilbao
Sometimes it’s only one object — a chair, a lamp, a table that has traveled with you. You place it in a new space, and suddenly the room feels less foreign. It becomes the bridge between what was and what is about to be. A quiet witness from the past, helping everything else find its place.
