On a recent rainy morning during New York Fashion Week, Karla Martinez de Salas approached her NoHo apartment with a garment bag in one hand and an iPhone in the other – all while waving from a distance and greeting me with a warm smile.

The Editor-in-Chief of Vogue México y Latinoamérica was coming back from the Oscar de la Renta Spring-Summer 2019 show. We used this moment to remember the late de la Renta, whose unforgettable legacy as a Dominican designer was introduced to both our lives at an early age. It provided a perfect segue to our conversation about what it means to be Latin in fashion.

With her impressive rise to the top of fashion, Martinez de Salas has become one the greatest – and chicest – ambassadors of Latinidad. As we settled in her living room, she offered me plátanos con chile, her reliable and tasty Mexican on-the-go snack of plantain chips with red chili flakes, and began telling me about her upbringing. Her late father practiced medicine, and immigrated to the U.S. to Orlando, Florida, where she was born though they settled in El Paso, Texas, which she considers her hometown to this day.

Martinez de Salas spent summers returning to her mother’s small town in Mexico to spend time with her family, staying with her aunt, whom she described as a woman who was always working and making sure Karla did her schoolwork and practicing her Spanish.

Summers in Third World countries couldn’t be further from the American summer camps kids here are accustomed to. I grew up spending mine in Ecuador at abuelas – ie. grandmother’s – where there weren’t many luxuries (no A/C or Internet here).

“In my mom’s small town, there wasn’t even milk in cartons. We had leche bronca, freshly milked from a cow,” she reminisced. “My summers in Mexico really helped me remain true to who I am and where I come from. My parents would tell me: this is where you’re from, and you should embrace it.”

Maintaining her heritage was instilled at a very young age, as was speaking both tongues freely and proudly – except at home, where only Spanish was spoken at her father’s request. It seemed like a form of preservation: If English is already spoken elsewhere, let’s keep Spanish holy at home.

“My dad was a doctor, so he had to learn English. It was baptism by fire,” she recalled. “They were never able to help us with homework, but at home, they wanted me to speak Spanish so we wouldn’t lose it. That helped us a lot.”

Her father came to the U.S. to complete a thoracic residency in Orlando. The opportunity was a blessing for the Martinez family, considering many Latin immigrants come to this country only to find their learned professions discredited. Many immigrant doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects, and educated professionals cannot practice here without an American validation.

So why leave in the first place? For some immigrants, it was the only way of surviving.

“My dad was an immigrant and had to work 10 times harder than anyone else,” she says. “He would always tell me, se come mucha mierda [you have to take a lot of crap] before you can get people to respect you. People were rude to him, and wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t be bothered to listen to someone with his accent, and that made me want to scream. As Latins, there are a lot of obstacles you’ll go through in life, and lots of people who won’t be nice to you. We have to overcome that every time – and still have a smile on our face.”

Martinez de Salas has been based in Mexico City for nearly three years, and, since June 2016, is in charge of Vogue México y Latinoamérica after years in New York City where she got her start.

She had moved to the city after college, and recalled interviewing for a full-time job at a magazine at the time when the HR person remarked: “Now how does a girl from El Paso come this far and want to work in fashion?”

“It was a backhanded way of telling me: You’re Mexican… who do you know, how did you get to Paris, how did you get to New York, and why do you want to work here?” she recalled, scoffing. “Do you think that because I’m Mexican and from El Paso, I can’t make it?”

She always felt that the industry lacked representation. In editorial, she could count her Latin colleagues on one hand: Nina Garcia, Ana Maria Pimentel, Miguel Enamorado, and Dania Ortiz. That is why celebrating Latinidad this month means so much to her because it’s an opportunity for the Latin community to visible, loud, and proud.

“We all have struggles, but it’s almost like Latins are taught to be happy that we’re here,” she said. ”My mom is always like, ¡mejor callate! Don’t ruffle any feathers. I’m not saying we have to be out there going on strikes, but we should definitely acknowledge and celebrate our accomplishments.”

There’s a certain sentiment to that which rings true to me. I couldn’t help but think: why is it that we Latinxs have decided to take a passenger seat, even to our own successes, especially when considering the gender wage gap for Latinas is 55 cents for every dollar paid to white men, making them the lowest-paid Americans.

A leadership role comes with great responsibility, and Martinez de Salas hopes to continue championing diversity and representation.

She has faced talents who aren’t open to working for Vogue México y Latinoamérica, because, as they tell her, they “aren’t focusing on that [Latinx] market.” To her, this presented opportunities to empower and hire Latin talent. “They’re hungry, and if I’m not giving them the opportunity, who will?” she noted. “I feel like it takes a leader in the region to do that.”

She aims to continue uniting forces, looking out for one another, and sticking together to empower Latinxs in fashion. She speaks with much hope for the future for a more inclusive industry and world.

Family, her husband and her twins matter most to Martinez de Salas, and she hopes to pass along the same wisdom she received from her parents.

She credits her success and strong work ethic to her Latinidad, or, as she put it, “that sense of family and togetherness. As Latins, we were taught to always respect the people older than you. That helped me tremendously in my career.”

Editor’s Note: This feature is part of an ongoing editorial series celebrating Latinxs in fashion during National Hispanic Heritage Month.  Click here to access the series.