Yineth Peña’s love for her craft has been slow-cooked over time. You could say that necklaces had been quietly seducing her for years—until, eventually, she gave in. She comes from a family devoted to dance and to the traditional chirimía music of her region, and she remembers how, whenever she attended or performed in festivals, her attention would drift toward the dancers’ accessories. For a long time, she thought it was simply an aesthetic pull calling to her. She kept admiring those necklaces—so beautiful, she would think—yet never quite dared to approach them. She couldn’t understand why, if her whole family were dancers, she felt drawn instead to craftsmanship.

Then, fate intervened. The pandemic—and love—led her to Villarrica, in the Cauca region, where she found herself face to face with her gift and her path. At the time, she was studying Law, but she finally listened to that long-standing pull and began buying necklaces she liked, starting her own collection. Soon after, she found herself making them for a charity event and realized how naturally it came to her—she understood the process instinctively. Orders began to arrive on their own. Friends of friends started asking her to make necklaces for them because, well, they turned out so beautiful.

But then comes the mystical turn in her story—and it comes quickly. Yineth comes from a lineage deeply connected to ancestral knowledge, from people able to hear what others cannot. Those voices began to reach her through others in Cauca, a place she describes as inhabited by people with strength in their gaze—intense, unwavering eyes. One day, a friend approached her with a message, and Yineth didn’t need to ask who it came from—she already knew. At first, she brushed it off, unwilling to believe it, but deep down she understood she had to follow those voices urging her to continue creating. And it happened again, this time through a stranger who stopped her and said the same thing: “You’re being sent a message—every time you make a necklace, include a juniper seed.”

Yineth had no choice but to listen. The first step was finding this elusive juniper seed. She searched all over Cali until she finally found it—only to realize it had always been familiar to her. She had grown up surrounded by juniper, which is traditionally used, among other things, to protect newborns. Suddenly, everything made sense. She made five necklaces for herself, and when others saw them, they immediately began placing orders. That was the turning point. With the seeds incorporated, Yineth understood that these were no longer just necklaces—they were intentional objects. Because of this, she could no longer make them for just anyone, nor in just any way.

This marked the beginning of a new chapter in her life—one of connection with her ancestors, of service through her necklaces and the healing bottles she learned to prepare, and of creative expression, such as designing an accessory collection for a Pride Day runway in 2021, featuring the full spectrum of her flag’s colors. All these threads came together in her brand, Ancestral Pride, where she embraces both diversity and ancestral heritage in a space that allows her to express everything she carries within.

Where she once hesitated, she now seizes every chance to learn from her aunts—their tips and secrets for preparing healing bottles, knowledge that lives outside of books. At the same time, she has woven together her two worlds: law and craftsmanship. Though they may seem far apart, for her they are deeply connected. She specialized in Ethnic Law, pursued a master’s degree in Cultural and Audiovisual Management, and brought it all into alignment. Drawing on that knowledge, she founded Casa Ancestral Pride, an expanded version of her brand, aimed at supporting women and members of the LGBTIQ+ community by strengthening their entrepreneurial projects.

Meanwhile, she continues crafting her necklaces, carefully combining colors so that no one can claim they don’t work with formal wear—not even her fellow professionals who, like her, spend their days in courtrooms. For them, wearing one of her pieces is more than an accessory—it’s carrying the protective and healing energy shaped by Yineth’s hands.