All photographs by Valentina Quijada
Social Network
Meet two Miami women who are leveraging their social reach to do goodInfluencers… what a difference a decade makes. In 2010, Instagram wasn’t even a thing—and wouldn’t be till October of that year. Now, every four seconds—the average time between blinks—brings an avalanche of roughly 12k sponsored posts worldwide, in fashion alone.
OK, that last part isn’t true—but you believed us, didn’t you? And that’s the muscle, and slippery slope, of social media, which often blurs the line between fact and carefully curated fiction. It’s brilliant and game-changing, but also the reason why it’s an easy target for cynics. When you’re serving up an Instagram dream, can you go deeper beyond surface appeal?
Enter Martha Graeff Seikaly and Danié Gómez-Ortigoza—a.k.a. @marthagraeff (335k followers, as of press time) and @journeyofabraid (32.8k), two Miami-based women who are flipping expectations on social status. Skim their feeds and you’ll encounter the familiar chorus of well-dressed snaps, but there’s an underlying goal here: as co-founders of the nonprofit The Bazaar for Good, which launched in 2018, they lean into their digital lives to make positive changes IRL.
We wanted to build something that had more meaning. We know the power and reach of social media, but it just wasn’t used in the right way.
Last November alone, for instance, they raised nearly $150,000 from their annual tentpole event, an all-day shopping bazaar featuring goods donated by brands big and small. The funds went towards various children’s charities in Venezuela: Fundana, Hogar Bambi, Hospital Ortopédico Infantil and Fe y Alegría. The year before, it was $120,000 for the Shanti Bhavan Children's Project in India, a boarding school for the poverty-stricken. For 2020, they're targeting climate change and environmental issues, spurred by the fires in Australia and the Amazon rainforest.
“The Bazaar for Good is a response to the current state of social media,” says Gómez-Ortigoza, previously a correspondent for Glamour México. “Martha and I always felt this void. We wanted to build something that had more meaning. We know the power and reach of social media, but it just wasn’t used in the right way.” Former model and fashion buyer Graeff Seikaly—whose 2018 visit to Shanti Bhavan, after attending a nearby Ayurvedic retreat, sparked this whole endeavor—cuts to the chase: “What we were doing, with our photos and looks, could feel very shallow. After I came back from India, I kept thinking about the kids there and knew we had to do something.”
Which isn’t to say they’ve abandoned their own personal brands—the two know their social presence helps the cause. So you’ll still find plenty of fashion, travel and mom moments. (Gómez-Ortigoza, born in Mexico City, is also all about braiding, hence her handle—it’s part trademark, part performance art, inspired by the beauty of indigenous tribes.) They’re savvy enough to know there’s strength in numbers, too—which is why they’ve built a community of influencer ambassadors around The Bazaar for Good, all female, all high-profile, all diverse: Venezuelan Camila Canabal (2.3m IG followers) and Chiquinquirá Delgado (4.4m), Colombian Jenny Lopez (347k and, no, not that one), Mexican Claudia Zuleta (186k)… They host, promote and bring in brands for donations.
“Let’s use the tools we have today, our platforms, to spread the message,” says Graeff Seikaly. “I’m a connector,” she adds with a laugh. “That’s my brand.”
Q&A: Behind Journey of a Braid
Still have questions about Gómez-Ortigoza's curious handle, @journeyofabraid? You're not the only one. We fired off a few more questions to get to the bottom of her braiding obsession.
OK, braiding—what's the story behind it?
My parents divorced when I was very young. It was my nanny, an indigenous woman, who showed me the heart of Mexico, and she would braid my hair whenever I had an important event or moment. Braids, for me, became an element of power. It became a shield, but also a sign that things were going to be OK. So I kept braiding my hair my whole life…
My parents divorced when I was very young. It was my nanny, an indigenous woman, who showed me the heart of Mexico, and she would braid my hair whenever I had an important event or moment. Braids, for me, became an element of power. It became a shield, but also a sign that things were going to be OK. So I kept braiding my hair my whole life…
Fast forward to 2014. I helped put together a Mexican delegation for the Women's Forum for the Economy and Society, which was led by Salma Hayek that year. Growing up in Mexico, it was hard to find my voice—it's a very macho society. So it was an incredible experience meeting all these inspiring women. It changed my life. On the last day, a few of them asked me to braid their hair the way I braid mine—it became an act of communion.
Now, every time I braid my hair, I think back on this experience and make sure I help another woman out. Braiding is my feminist manifesto.
You performed once during Art Basel…
I did a performance piece where I braided strangers' hair—women, men, every color, every nationality, every religion. It was very ritualistic and a beautiful way of sharing stories. Touching someone's hair is very personal, very vulnerable. I find that people open up. The first question I always ask is, "Who used to brush your hair when you were little?" From there, you touch upon people's emotions, layer by layer.
I did a performance piece where I braided strangers' hair—women, men, every color, every nationality, every religion. It was very ritualistic and a beautiful way of sharing stories. Touching someone's hair is very personal, very vulnerable. I find that people open up. The first question I always ask is, "Who used to brush your hair when you were little?" From there, you touch upon people's emotions, layer by layer.
Tell us about the type of braid you always wear…
It's a Tehuana braid, inspired by this indigenous tribe in Mexico, called Istmo de Tehuantepec. The women are the providers in the tribe—they bring in the trade, bring in the money.
It's a Tehuana braid, inspired by this indigenous tribe in Mexico, called Istmo de Tehuantepec. The women are the providers in the tribe—they bring in the trade, bring in the money.
And you always accessorize your braids?
After the Women's Forum, the organizer sent me an Hermès scarf as a thank-you. I started wearing it in my hair, as part of my braids. But I couldn't really get the right volume. You need the right textiles to do so, and to keep the braids up. I did a lot of research and then launched my own line of these headpieces, Canvas. That's what I wear.
After the Women's Forum, the organizer sent me an Hermès scarf as a thank-you. I started wearing it in my hair, as part of my braids. But I couldn't really get the right volume. You need the right textiles to do so, and to keep the braids up. I did a lot of research and then launched my own line of these headpieces, Canvas. That's what I wear.
Complete the sentence: For me, a braid means…
Intention.
Intention.
