Emulsion of Film

Serape

I always hated sitting on those plastic and stiff couches. 

Always hated the way my thighs would stick. The way my cellulite that I was too young to hate stuck to the vinyl that protected the clearly outdated furniture. 

Hated they way those blankets draped over the cushion

Hated the way I never knew what they were. Just knew that these bright lines meant that they were apart of my culture. 

Meant that I needed to forget my dreams and marry young. 

But that was the beauty of them. 

There unevenly spaced colors drew you in. Making you forget that you would not eat for the day and Selena y Los Dinos would be playing all day while you scrubbed the floors and white tiles until they were whiter than your skin.

Because you were too "gringa" to proudly wear that serape.