Most often, the word “showgirl” evokes Parisian cabarets and Las Vegas burlesque, women in feathers and jewels dancing in swanky city clubs. But at their peak, the glitzy, suggestive performers also made waves in Latin America and the Caribbean where they were known as vedettes. By the mid 1900s, they were among the region’s most in-demand entertainers. Today, a Mexico City-based historian named Rico (who requested to go by just that one name) preserves their legacy with Ficheraz, a digital archive devoted to the women who popularized showgirl culture in places like Mexico, Cuba, and Argentina. 

“I always wanted to be a historian,” says Rico, who grew up in Monterrey, an industrial city in northern Mexico. He studied journalism in college, and his obsession with vedettes took root when he interviewed legendary Mexican performer Lyn May for a class project. “When I came across vedettes, I became fixated on them, like, who are these women? I was unaware that this genre of artist existed.”

Rico posted about his class project on Instagram, and in 2018, Ficheraz was born. “It started with just a few showgirls from the ’70s, from Mexico. Then it started growing,” he says. He views Ficheraz as a place where Latina and Caribbean vedettes—and their cultural impact—can be explored in more depth than ever before. “[Vedettes] built a lot of the structure pop culture is based on right now, but not many people know that, and there’s not a source to go and see that. So I decided to make it myself.”

Vedettes first emerged in Latin America and the Caribbean in the early 1900s, a time of major political unrest in the region. As the Mexican research group Instituto Mora notes, the performers found success as a form of wartime entertainment, appearing in vaudeville, burlesque, and cabaret productions, among others. Scantily clad and most often smiling, they presented a wide range of acts, from singing and dancing to stripping. According to Rico, some were even known to recite comedic monologues full of double entendres. By the 1930s, during the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema, Latina and Caribbean vedettes regularly appeared in movies, where they captivated international audiences well into the 1980s. 

Despite their mass appeal, vedettes’ existence was inherently political—but at the same time, most of them were simply young women trying to make a living. “[Vedettes] were also these actors that were between culture and counterculture, because they were women expressing sexual freedom,” says Rico. “When you go back to the old showgirls, who made political change and were very radical, most of them didn’t even realize they were doing that. They were just trying to survive.”

Scroll through Ficheraz’s Instagram and you’ll find women of every skin tone embodying vedette motifs, whether at Rio Carnival or in 20th century cinema. Other posts showcase modern celebrities whose style harkens back the glory days of Latin and Caribbean revue. Before Salma Hayek’s iconic striptease in From Dusk Till Dawn, women like Iris Chacón of Puerto Rico and Valeria Valenssa of Brazil defined what it meant to be a vedette. Ficheraz is here to document it all.

Rico buys and scans all materials for Ficheraz himself, along with interviewing vedettes and those involved in their work, like photographers, choreographers, and costume designers. In its eight years of existence, Ficheraz has amassed nearly 300,000 Instagram followers, including Playboy cover star Karol G, who invited Rico to collaborate on the visuals for her vedette-inspired Tropicoqueta album. 

“We met in Medellín and had a meeting for, like, six hours,” he says. “We watched clips of movies, we looked through archives. I brought magazines, photos, and programs from old cabarets. She was writing down everything I was telling her and was so invested in the project. That’s also one of the reasons why I decided to work with her. I felt like she cared about it.”

Since Tropicoqueta dropped in June 2025, Rico has consulted on projects like La PremiEre, a nostalgic TV special that aired across 60 countries in December. It includes a cameo from Lyn May, the first vedette he interviewed back in college. He also provided art direction for Karol’s eight-show run at the legendary cabaret venue Crazy Horse Paris (“It was crazy, crazy, crazy,” he says). Rico’s work on the “Latina Foreva” music video was especially personal; he sourced costumes from the estate of Rossy Mendoza, a vedette he befriended when he moved to Mexico City.  

In the end, Karol chose a beaded green bikini from Mendoza for the video. “[Mendoza’s] daughter was super happy,” Rico says. “The designer, Mitzy, is still alive, and he was going nuts…he thought that he was from the past, a piece of fashion history, but no, he’s trendy now.” 

Ficheraz remains a passion project for Rico. He works an entirely separate day job, which he uses to fund his work with vedettes and other members of a once-booming industry. “When I have opportunities like the ones with Karol, or with exhibitions, when money comes that way, I always try to give back,” he says. Sometimes, that looks like purchasing prints from a former cabaret photographer, even if he won’t end up using them. Other times, it means taking retired vedettes to lunch and calling their Ubers home.

Rico says these friendships are the most gratifying part of Ficheraz. “When [Mendoza] passed away, I had those memories of her,” he explains. “Of taking her to eat, of building her confidence, because of course time has passed, they have changed and they don’t always like that. When I’m with them, I feel like I’m with the woman in the photograph.” 

Rico insists that the showgirl industry isn’t dead—it’s just changing. It’s a lesson he’s picked up in his travels with Karol and her team. “To see Colombians, Brazilians, Americans, people from Spain, people from France, all of them saying ‘Cabaret is my life’ or ‘I want to be a showgirl like they were back in the day,’ I appreciate that so much because I know if I had any artistic talent, I would do the same thing,” he says. “It’s just out of love and passion. It’s not well-paying and there are so few opportunities, but to see people be crazy about it makes me feel part of a community around the world.”