I’m in My Celestial Era. Here’s How I Achieve the Look & Lifestyle

I don’t really have memories of a life before my spiritual practice because I’ve always been doing this. Always. It wasn’t something I stumbled upon or consciously decided to take up; it was just part of me, woven into the fabric of my being since childhood. From the time I was a little girl, I was tracing the lines of palms, using playing cards as tarot, sneaking off to botanicas against my abuela’s wishes. “Nena, where are you going? We can’t go there. You can’t go there,” she’d say, catching me before I could slip away. I was always drawn to the unseen, the energy that exists beyond what the eye can capture.

I come from a lineage where spirituality was always present, even when it wasn’t spoken about. It lived in the remedios my grandmother mixed in the kitchen, in the rhythmic prayers whispered over a cup of cafecito, and in the stories carried through generations like heirlooms. My connection to my Puerto Ricaness has only deepened over time, especially as I’ve learned to heal ancestral wounds, some which I remember, some I’ve inherited, and some that whisper to me from the other side. Even as I’ve lived in places where my culture isn’t as present — New Orleans and now South Africa — I have carried it with me. I feel my ancestors with me, guiding me, speaking through me. They show me the patterns, the struggles, the love, and the resilience embedded in our bloodline. And through my spiritual practice I not only honor them, but I also transform what needs healing, for myself and for those who will come after me.

Being Afro-Latina means carrying the weight and the beauty of multiple worlds within me. It’s in the foods I cook, the music that fills my home, the way I slip between Spanish and English, and the way my accent, no matter where I go, always gives me away. It’s in the way I dress, the way I adorn myself — not just with jewelry, but with symbols that have lived in my lineage for centuries. My style is an extension of my spirit, a manifestation of the energies I want to invoke: massive gold hoops, thick bangles, and snake rings curling around my fingers. These aren’t just accessories; they’re talismans, reminders of my power, my ancestors, and my transformation.

My celestial era is not just about aesthetics; it’s about alignment. Before I choose what to wear, I check in with myself, my guides, and source. What energy do I need today? What vibration do I want to carry into the world? Sometimes, it’s urban bohemian luxe — flowing fabrics, layered jewelry, a crown of curls flowing down my back. Other days, it’s hood chic — Nike Dunks, sweatpants, a fitted cap, and a long shirt that whispers of Bed-Stuy and Puerto Rico, my homes. My style is a mood, a frequency, a spell I cast on myself before stepping out into the world. 

Celestial, to me, is less about fashion and more about connection to myself, to the divine, to the universe that exists within and around me. It’s in the way I wrap my head when I need protection, the way I wear white when I need clarity, the way I let gold kiss my skin as a reminder of the radiance I carry. It’s in the snake, a symbol of endless transformation, of rebirth, of the power coiled within me ready to unfurl. 

There is no separation between my spirituality and my life; it is all one integrated movement, a dance between the seen and the unseen. Every step I take and every piece I wear is a thread in the tapestry of my celestial era. And in this era, I am infinite. If you’re looking to tap into your celestial era, these are five ways you can achieve the look and lifestyle:

Before anything external, it begins with you. Your celestial era isn’t just about what you wear, it’s about who you are, how you feel, and what you want to call in. Every morning, before I choose an outfit, before I touch my jewelry or reach for my eyeliner, I check in. Where is my spirit today? What do I need?

Some days, I need to feel grounded, so I lean into deep, earthy tones, soft fabrics, and an easy, flowing silhouette. Other days, I want to radiate power, so I reach for structured pieces, bold colors, and statement jewelry. The key is intention: curating yourself in a way that aligns your outer world with your inner energy. If you’re unsure, start with what makes you feel most like you. What colors make you feel limitless? What textures bring you comfort? Who inspires you and why?

Adornment is more than decoration; it’s ritual. Every ring, necklace, and earring carries energy, a vibration, and a message you send out into the world. My cat-eyeliner, for example, is more than just a beauty signature; it connects me to ancient Kemet, to my past lives, to the fierce, feline energy I channel when I draw it on. The process itself is a meditation, a moment when I set my intentions for the day. Am I calling in protection? I’ll wrap my head. Do I need to feel power? I’ll stack my gold, wear snake rings, and let my skin shimmer.

Color therapy plays a role, too: reds for confidence, blues for peace, and gold for divine collection. Your adornments are prayers worn on the body, choose them with care.

Scent is a portal, a memory. When I wear oud, it’s not just because it smells good; it’s because it takes me somewhere else, to another time, another life, and another version of myself that still lingers in my spirit. Musk, resins, the deep, ancient notes of incense, they awaken something within me. Your scent should be an extension of your essence.

What smells make you feel untouchable? What fragrances feel like home? Maybe it’s the floral notes your mother wore or the cinnamon and vanilla from your grandmother’s kitchen. Your perfume, your oils, and the way you layer them are a way for you to shift your energy without saying a word. 

The way I style my hair depends on what I need to manifest. When I braid, I weave my intentions into each strand, locking them in. When I let my curls flow freely, I allow myself to be soft, unbound, and expansive. If I wrap my head, it’s for protection; to hold my energy close and keep unwanted spirits out. Hair is a direct extension of our intuition, so whether you keep it long, shave it off, dye it, twist it, or braid it, do it with purpose. Speak desires into your strands. Let your hair be a ritual of self love, expression, and creation. 

Your home is an extension of you — let it breathe, move, and evolve. I don’t believe in rigid aesthetics; I let my space speak to me. Some days, I feel the need for more plants, fresh flowers, or for an altar rearrangement. Other times, I’ll shift my furniture, clear a corner, and open up space for new energy to flow. Your home should feel like a sanctuary. Don’t decorate for trends, decorate for resonance. What colors soothe you? What objects make you feel powerful? What arrangements feel balanced? Let your home be a conversation between you and your energy.