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bad bunny and the year of the fire horse
a few moments of gush for Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio and the w's biz group I met with last night
Laura Winberry
February 03, 2026 • Estimated Reading Time: 7 minutes
gm and welcome to issue 55. If you’ve been off the grid or in a cave and didn’t hear, Bad Bunny’s “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” won album of the year (among other things) at the Grammy’s this past Sunday. He cried, and I cried watching him cry. Then accepted his award with a short but important speech (98% of which was in Spanish, as it should be).
I like how Variety describes that speech, in this article:
“Bad Bunny held the weight of every abuela who crossed a border with little more than hope and determination… every father who was detained on his way to work… every child who now fears the sound of a knock at the door. And most of all, it was for everyone who has been disparaged for their language, their music and their culture.”
The article continues, highlighting how the album was ”the first primarily Spanish-language album to win the Grammy for album of the year. After decades of Latin artists shaping the sound of American music, after generations of our stories being told, our rhythms borrowed, our culture consumed, the industry’s highest honor finally went to an album sung in the language our mothers pray in.” Then closes by echoing Bad Bunny’s message: ICE out. Love in.
To get more of the powerful picture that is Bad Bunny, give The Sunday Daily: Bad Bunny Takes Over America a listen. I promise you won’t regret it. Watching someone hold that much history and still move forward with joy feels like a kind of permission.
Last week I shared part two of my PDX tour. This week is a short one featuring the women’s business group I attended at a friend’s house last night, and a little Bad Bunny highlight (which you just read). Thanks for being here—let’s go.
cry it out then let’s fucking go
not all women’s business groups are what you think they are (I tell myself as I ring the doorbell)
I knew this meetup wasn’t going to be what I think of when I think of women’s business groups (or any women’s group, really). The truth is, I don’t know what I think of when I think of them. I just know what I feel and that feeling, more often than not, is aversion. No shade on women’s groups—they’re important, and help people connect and get through shit, and they serve a very real purpose. I’ve just never really been drawn to them.
Maybe that’s my own toxic masc conditioning speaking, or maybe it’s the slightly too-saccharine taste left from one or two women’s meetups in my younger years. Either way it doesn’t really matter. The point is that I knew this one was going to be different than the preconceived notions trying to push through. And, it was.
For two hours, I got to listen to five other baddies talk about the work they’re doing—successes, failures, and sticking points. Hell. Fucking. Yeah.
speaking of women in business baddies—this is Jaime, the owner of the pottery studio I was invited to visit (via inOregon) this past Saturday. more on this in the next issue of Babe.
I also got to share what I was working on. Without a pixel of imposter syndrome flickering through (wild, I know), and with genuine excitement. Like I said a few weeks ago, for the first time in a long-ass time I love what I’m doing and the directions I’m moving in. And when you feel that, about anything really, that shit comes through in how you talk about it or write about it or move through your days. It both feeds and gets fed, if you know what I mean.
Another thing I learned is that, in Chinese New Year terms, 2025 was the Year of the Wood Snake. And 2026 is the Year of the Fire Horse. And I’ll be damned if in that moment I didn’t feel like, hell yeah, I can fuck with those animals and their symbology. I went from some—not gonna lie—pretty hard years into 2025’s skin shedding, thoughtful action, strategic planning, and growth. Straight into 2026, where it’s all about energy, passion, bravery, and fast forward motion.
I see you, fire horse
Before we parted ways last night, one of the women reminded us that she would be collecting “letters to our future selves” to then mail to us in like 6 months to a year. If we wanted to participate, we just needed to bring a note to next month’s meeting and she would take care of the rest.
When one gal remarked that so far her note just said “no cut bangs” (she had just cut her bangs), I realized this could be literally any kind of note to my future self: long, short, deep, comical, what the fuck ever. And started formulating mine in my head.
While I’m not sure what the full note will say, it will remind me of what I already know, but which industry and capitalism want all of us to forget: embody your instinct, trust your process, if a mediocre white man can do it so can you.
learning poppy choreo to this song from Fred Again and BIA (not the choreo in this vid, which is sick)
That's issue 55. Thanks for reading and hanging—I’m sending lots of love and Bad Bunny energy your way. Until next week.
xoxo,
lw
PS: Subscribe now if you're into this messy build-in-public energy. Miss the last issue? It’s right here. Also literally none of this is ever advice. I’m sharing what I learn through Babe, and perhaps you’ll learn from my mistakes. Hopefully, maybe, who knows, ily.