Worn Stories: Ana Flores.
Ana Flores opens the first edition of Worn Stories, an ethnography of dress that offers an intimate look at how identity, community, and history shape the language of personal style.
In Honduras, I relied on hand-me-downs and secondhand clothing sent in large boxes from my cousins in the U.S.
Since moving to Florida in 2016, I’ve had more access and resources to buy my own things. But my style hasn’t really changed. I still wear my Sunday best for church and keep things casual for everyday life.
WORK
In my job as a housekeeper, I dress comfortably in clothes I wouldn’t mind being ruined by clorox. I then put on some makeup. Not to fix anything, but to highlight what’s already here.
There was a day I stopped letting the world bring me down. Now, when I walk by the mirrors I windex, I see someone worth loving. I see the difference I make in the lives of young families, the elderly, anyone who relies on the service I provide. The order I restore.
It took time, this love for myself. For my body.
It shows up in how I dress and how I speak to myself.
WEEKENDS
When I’m not working I spend time with my family, attend games and events, and get together with friends. Shopping is something I love doing here. Ross and Burlington are favorites; I can find new clothes from great brands. Like the Michael Kors bag that seemed like my wildest dream in Honduras.
I don’t shop online. I don’t follow influencers or have any fashion icons. I buy what looks good on my body, which stores here label as “curvy.”
Getting dressed for sunday Church is important to me. A quiet ritual, as if I’m choosing clothes for the presence of God. It’s about respect, honoring my spiritual life, this anchor that held me steady when I felt like I was drowning.
Like those 12 hours at la hielera, where I wished I had dressed warmer to commit the felony of crossing the river with my two kids. I never saw crossing the border as a crime. It was a desperate mother’s choice— my only chance to escape a very unsafe town and give my children the future they couldn’t have had in Honduras.
I know everyone’s story is different, but I can only speak for mine.
The journey toward legalizing my immigration status has been expensive and treacherous. But there is, at least, a way forward. A path for me that for some reason not everyone has.
While I wait to be granted official pardon for crossing the U.S.-Mexican border, I’ve built a new life here: I found love in a wonderful man, built a community, made friends who feel like family, learned how to drive, became independent, watched my kids adapt and flourish, and found a new version of myself.
I never had the chance to go to college, but my dream is for my kids to get the best education and work for whatever dreams they have.
As for me? I’ll keep praying for them. And crossing any border that stands between us and a life of purpose.
As told to Laura De Valencia Kirk.
This was incredible. Truly one of the best fashion adjacent pieces I’ve read on Substack. Excited for this series.
Gorgeous--Ana has a great eye for color. The hot pink and icy blue blouses look beautiful and I love the final dress and booties--and the way Ana's work, style, courage and spirituality all shine through her clothes. And thanks for profling a house cleaner. I've both been a cleaner and employed one and can say from both sides what important work it is.