Becky G is full of ideas. It’s 4pm in Los Angeles when we connect over Zoom following her shoot with GRAZIA. Our tête-à-tête is a momentary reprieve from recording music—or being “a professional Polly Pocket,” as she calls the dressing-up side of these types of things.

On set, the singer, songwriter, actress and activist had suggested switching the pop Y2K style references for something a little closer to her roots; modern takes on longstanding Mexican-American traditions like pairing sculptural Versace and Jacquemus with trenzas, the Spanish word for braids.

“It reminded me a lot of when I was younger. I used to dance ‘baile folklórico’ which is traditional Mexican folk dancing,” she says, her SoCal accent warm. “My grandma would help braid my hair with yarn extensions and ribbons.”

Born Rebecca Gomez, the 27-year-old Mexican-American and five-time Latin Grammy Award nominee—with 37 million followers on Instagram—has become one of the most influential artists of her generation. Beginning her career on Youtube in 2011, Gomez humbly posted cover versions of popular songs before landing a record deal. She wound up with a hugely successful career as a pop artist, before establishing herself in the fast-moving world of reggaeton. Today, Gomez dominates the regional Mexican musical landscape, with over 28 billion global streams and counting. No stranger to hardship, Gomez also uses her massive platform to speak out against inequality and raise awareness on social issues.

“I’m just getting started,” she smiles.

Tell me about your upbringing, what was it like?
Becky G (BG): I was born and raised in Inglewood in California. I grew up around so much culture and community. I think of little Becky, cutting up hand-me-downs and styling them to reflect her personality. I would style my elementary school uniform and convince my mum to buy me bow ties, patches and all kinds of little buttons that I could pin to it. I would always get called to the principal’s office for breaking the dress code, of course.

Was customising your school uniform an attempt to inject your Mexican culture into American-dominated spaces, or did you always embrace your heritage?
BG: I think it was also a form of expression. When I think of my culture, we’re not just loud and proud; we’re very colourful. We’re diverse in so many ways. Growing up in a family of 15 grandchildren on my dad’s side, and 19 on my mum’s side, it’s easy to get lost in the mix. So, to find things that felt like they were an extension of me in this sea of children was important. I didn’t grow up looking at magazines. I had no idea what a Met Gala or Fashion Week was. Those things didn’t exist in my world. What existed was expression. That’s what called out later in life when I embarked on my high-fashion journey.

Self-expression through fashion can be challenging with a fast-paced trend cycle. How have you settled on your personal style?
BG: Trends are fun and cool, but I always want to make sure that what I create for myself is something I’m going to look back on years afterwards and think: “Wow, this was a beautiful piece.” This cover story is one of my proudest moments. Not just in fashion, but as an artist because I challenged myself and did something I don’t normally do. I might even want one of these pictures hung in my office!

Your family moved into a converted garage with your grandparents when you were just nine years old. How did that experience shape you?
BG: It was a pivotal moment in my life and a huge catalyst for becoming an artist. No one in my family played instruments, was a professional singer or in the arts world at all. It was like shooting in the dark when I decided at nine years old that I wanted to become an entertainer. Shirley Temple and Dakota Fanning were my inspirations—two very white, blue-eyed blonde girls who looked nothing like me. But they were very young, seasoned and created impactful and groundbreaking moments in this industry. I remember thinking: “Well, they did it, I can do it too.” My parents let me believe that the sky was the limit. I’m so thankful for that. Call it a little reckless, but I felt limitless. Like, what did I have to lose? If I came from nothing, I’m fine with nothing, everything else is just a bonus.

You’ve spoken in the past about the pressure to find work at a young age to help support your family. How hard was that?
BG: I’m the firstborn and a Mexican daughter at that. We internalise a lot. The culture teaches us to be very self-sacrificing and put everyone else’s needs before our own. Some of [the pressure] probably came from wanting to be a good example for my siblings. But, I also think it was about giving myself space. The recording studio, the stage and being on set were escapes from my reality, an opportunity to use my imagination, exist differently in the world and play pretend. I’ve done many years of therapy now to understand the way I internalised a lot of those pressures. Seeing them for the two truths [they are] is valuable.

What are those two truths?
BG: One truth is who at nine years old is responsible for taking on generational and financial trauma? Who at nine years old identifies with a midlife crisis? It’s definitely not normal. But, the other truth is that [my career] happened the way it needed to. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I hadn’t gone through those things. A lot of times, especially for people in communities like the one that I grew up in, we have a history of making beautiful things out of our pain. I think that’s incredible. I also think it’s very sad. Sometimes we expect our people to stay in those places of pain. Something I’m very proud of having built is new pathways for my siblings and even for my parents.

In reconnecting with your heritage, what did you discover about yourself?
BG: I always felt alone at some points in my life and in my career. I did something that no one in my family had ever accomplished. I had no blueprint, point of reference or contacts. Nothing to go off of other than my gut instincts, which sometimes I even doubted. But I realised I’m a lot like my grandparents. They came from Mexico to the United States with a dream, a penny in their pocket and the clothes on their back. They had nothing, but they knew they needed something. Remembering that I’m a part of something bigger is valuable. There are roots there that ground me and have set me up to take chances. Connecting with my roots and learning more about my grandparents is so moving. It has fueled everything. Stories like theirs are the stories of so many other families and generations that are what we’ve been told is the American dream. The reality is, it’s so far from a dream.

Your third and latest album Esquinas represents the corner of the two roads your Mexican and American identities meet. When you look at the world—social media, the state of politics, what’s happening to people in warzones and to the planet itself —how important is music with this type of intersectionality messaging right now?
BG: It’s so overwhelming when we think about how big these issues are. Being raised in a predominantly Brown and Black community, systemically we face a lot of problems. It sometimes feels never-ending and all on me. That’s how a lot of us in our community embody it—if I don’t make it, who else will? But sometimes I realise it might not be something to be proud of. If we’re constantly in this place of taking on the world, how can we even take on our day? We say dream big, but sometimes you need to think small to make a big impact. Think of little Becky and what big dreams she had, but she had to take small steps to get this far. It’s a miracle to think of the power that can have.

At what point did you decide to latch onto the rising popularity of regional Mexican music and begin collaborating with current regional Mexican hitmakers—and why?
BG: This is going to sound spiritual but I truly believe that the way we came into this world is who we are deep down inside. Society tells us we need to be all these things. So, [my shift into Mexican regional music] was a journey of unlearning who I’m not, in order to become who I’ve always been. As an artist, and when you’re a fan of music, it knows no limits. You are genre-less. It didn’t matter the language I was singing in, I was always representing Inglewood, I was always representing two flags and I was always speaking “Spanglish”. [This transition] was more a process to develop the skill of storytelling to get to Esquinas and be able to tell my story. 

Your work in the Latin music category has been your most commercially successful. How do you balance mainstream appeal with a dedication to your roots? And do you ever feel as if you’ve isolated your English-language fans?
BG: I grew up speaking Spanish first. Then I went to English-speaking schools and had English-speaking friends, but [Spanish] was always an extension of my soul. I always sang in Spanish. I was the little girl at every family party singing with Mariachi. But as a multi-layered artist, we sometimes have to limit ourselves to continue to be marketable or more digestible to an audience that may like it easy. [Audiences] don’t want to have to think too hard or learn about something. They just want to feel good. It was fun to do feel-good music, absolutely, but when I got to Esquinas, I realised the language didn’t matter, it just mattered how [audiences] felt when they listened to it. If they could feel my emotions and my heart, then it accomplished what I hoped to.

How do the relationships in your life shape your songwriting and music?
BG: I love people. I love connection. Instinctively, I always want to say it’s because I’m a Pisces and we are creative beings, very adaptive and accepting. [Those qualities] influence my artistry a lot. But it’s also my community, upbringing, and family because it impacted the way I view the world.

Your career began with covers posted to Youtube. Back then, the world wasn’t moving at the breakneck speed it is now. What’s your advice to Youtubers, viral sensations or influencers in holding their time in the spotlight, and not just becoming another flash in the pan?
BG: Patience. Like everything, [social media] and my relationship with getting discovered on the internet evolved. Back then it was so different to today. Now it’s like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. We’ve all gotten our wires crossed with what success is. We’ve become so consumed by the amount of views, reshares or amounts of streams. My biggest lesson is that your success shouldn’t be dictated by numbers but by the quality of connections you’re making. I wouldn’t have a career today if I wasn’t trying to sustain the [relationships] I have with my fans, versus focusing on the quantity of people who know my name. It’s not sustainable. Just look at the amount of platforms I’ve had to survive as an artist! It’s like, what’s next?

Speaking of what’s next, seeing the success of fellow Latin creatives like Willy Chavarria and Bad Bunny, what do you hope for the future of the community?
BG: I have the biggest fashion crush on Willy. He’s like my Godfather in the fashion space. He laughed at me when we were at a recent runway show because I was so emotional afterwards. He said: “Oh, honey, we need to get you to more shows! That made you cry?” I forget he lives, breathes, eats and sleeps fashion on a 24/7 basis. This is so new to me. I hope we create more opportunities for individuals who look like me, speak like me and identify with the culture to shake things up. Fashion has been the most open and receptive to it, now more than ever.

You’re 27 but I feel like you’ve already lived a whole lifetime! Looking back, is there any part of you that wishes you didn’t get into the industry so young?
BG: Not at all. It’s much more empowering to own every single step in the journey; the good ones and the not-so-good ones. I sometimes feel like a cat who is on her sixth life of nine. But it’s also very empowering to know I’m not starting from zero. I’m starting from experience.

You have described yourself as a “200 percenter”. Not someone who is half American and half Mexican, but 100% both. What does this mean to you and how will this continue to be expressed through future projects?
BG: Esquinas is definitely the deepest I have gone into my personal inventory of inspiration and life experiences. It was my love letter to my culture and my community. Accessing that has unlocked something in me that feels like [opening] Pandora’s Box. My fans don’t necessarily know this but I haven’t stopped creating since Esquinas. [My new music explores] more than the corners that raised me. [It’s about] what I found on those corners.

What did you discover in those corners that impacted you the most?
BG: I made amends with my younger self. We’re hand in hand now. I feel like I’m stepping into the woman that I want to become in this world. There’s this transition happening that sounds cheesy to say, but it’s like a coming-of-age story. I’m coming of age as an artist. They always say your first album is the one you get out of the way, the second album is like, “You’re almost there” and the third is like, “Here she is”. I feel that I really found her.

“Shower” turned 10 this year! It currently has over 507 million views on YouTube and 840 million streams on Spotify. What do you think that nine-year-old in her grandparent’s garage would say if she knew what type of success lay ahead of her?
BG: That’s tough. [“Shower”] was something bigger than Becky G. I was the “singing in the shower” girl for many years and it taught me one of the most valuable lessons: the power of my voice. Did I want to be a passenger in my career? No. Did I want to be a one-hit wonder? Absolutely not. It motivated me to keep going even when things weren’t going the way that I had hoped. I’m glad I stuck with it because so many years later I feel like God gave me another opportunity to fall in love with the song. It had a resurgence on Tiktok and I thought: “Are you serious? ‘Shower’ is going viral? That is the most random thing I could ever think of.” But there we were, having this viral moment with this song 10 years later. I can smile and be just as proud but for different reasons now.

This story first appeared in GRAZIA Singapore’s October print issue.

PHOTOGRAPHY KRISTIAN SCHULLER
CREATIVE DIRECTION DANÉ STOJANOVIC
ART DIRECTION PEGGY SCHULLER
FASHION DIRECTION ANNA CASTAN
HAIR JEAN-LUC AMARIN
MAKEUP ANNA SADAMORI
VIDEOGRAPHY MAYCON DEHAN
DIGITAL TECHNICIAN JULIA DANSARIE
PRODUCER AND CASTING DIRECTOR JEAN-MARC MONDELET
COMMUNICATIONS MANAGER JOHANA V. DANA
LIGHTING ASSISTANTS SACHA VAKTOVIC AND STAN
FASHION ASSISTANTS GABRIELA CAMBERO, CHRISTIAN MARCHESICH AND BARNABÉ WHITE