Kali Uchis Reclaims The Passionate Latina Trope in Orquídeas

Kali Uchis begins her latest album Orquídeas with a premise we can all agree on: she is a goddess. The opening song “¿Como Así?” is one of delicate swagger, with Uchis’ angelic vocals bringing sensuality and femininity to the slow dance beat. In the following track, “Me Pongo Loca,” Uchis admits to being a passionate woman — something Latinas are often charged with, in a negative way — but she also sings the truth about her fervor: it makes her irresistible. “I get a lil crazy / pero no es mi culpa,” Uchis sings, and in the chorus she concludes: “Pussy too good, can't get rid of me.” Expressing confidence over lo-fi beats and reggaeton lento isn’t atypical for Uchis, who rose to superstardom with the single “telepatía,” a song where she boasts about her ability to make love through telepathy in a musical vibe that sounds like pastel pink and a dizzying brand of perfume. 

Orquideas is Uchis’ second Spanish-language album and fourth LP, and it solidifies the space she is building for herself as a unique Latina artist. The Grammy-winning singer, who was born in Alexandria, Virginia, to Colombian parents, named the album after orchids because they are Colombia’s national flower, which she claims to be hypnotized by.

In a press statement about Orquideas, Uchis said: “I always felt distinctly intrigued and magnetized by [this] flower. This album is inspired by the timeless, eerie, mystic, striking, graceful and sensual allure of the orchid. With this vast scope of fresh energy, I wish to redefine the way we look at Latinas in music.” It makes sense: Uchis brings out a new side of music made by Latinas, one that is sensual but also moody, sexy but that takes absolutely no bullshit for it. 

It’s clear that Uchis, who recently revealed she is pregnant, idolizes the feminine, but that doesn’t mean she accepts being treated as less than because of it. Like many Latinas before her, she doesn’t apologize for her own distinct and somewhat over the top sense of style. Her love and persistent embodiment of Latina femininity is clear throughout the album.

In “Diosa,” she sings: “Tú sabes bien / Que soy mucha mujer / Y puede ser que / Eso te asuste” (You know / I am a whole lot of woman / And maybe / That scares you). But she isn’t just a goddess; she is a reina (queen), a diva, someone who deserves the universe, someone who wants the best for herself. If you think that makes her vain, you simply don’t get the vibe.

Listening to this album made me think about how I navigate romantic love as a Latina, as someone who can be passionate and intense, but also understand the risks of loving profoundly in a world that already sees my body and feelings as too much. Many of us want to be liberated goddesses like Uchis, and she seems to recognize the contradictions of loving as a goddess — and she cautions us to be so careful not to give ourselves away fully despite our desire to love, not to lose ourselves in our own loving intensity like U.S. society wants us to do. Yes, we are passionate, we want to live intensely, but not for a person who will water us down, or cast us as the villain once we are gone.

In the single “Te Mata” — a traditional bolero where Uchis shows off her vocal and stylistic range — Uchis sings: “Yo que soy la diabla de tu historia / La que sabía que pa volar me tocaría encontrar mis propias alas / Y yo me guardaba ese dolor dentro de mi alma” (I am the villain of your story / The one who knew I’d have to find my own wings to fly / And I kept that pain inside). Don’t be afraid to leave and find yourself, Uchis seems to be saying — the biggest love of your life is yourself. 

We already know that Uchis can make her own space in the music industry, but in Orquídeas we see a new side of hers: the one that honors the Latina artists that came before her, and if there was ever any doubt that she has the range for other sounds outside her TikTok fame, this album puts those doubts to rest. Starting Orquideas with a sensually moody vibe, the second half of the album delves into more traditional Latin American sounds. In “Muñekita,” Uchis collaborates with El Alfa and the City Girl’s JT to deliver a fun dembow track. In “Labios Mordidos,” Uchis is joined by Karol G in a soft reggaeton song about the allure of Latina women that will make you want to dance — and maybe kiss some girls. Uchis has openly discussed her bisexuality, so this song is officially a bisexual anthem. 

The closing track, “Dame Beso / Muevete,” is by far the most surprising and exciting song on the album. Honoring the Latina singers that came before her, Uchis sings about her desires in a salsa tune that reminds me of music I used to hear my parents dance to growing up. The trumpets and the piano, in contrast with the earlier lo-fi tunes, delivers the sense that Uchis has the range to do it all. And while she can do it all, she has acquired the fame and prestige to do exactly what she wants to do — be it a bolero or a synth-filled slow reggaeton tune.