Gigi Bella writes poems that mis primos would love. These poems are sometimes biting, sometimes hilarious, and always alive with an energy that makes me want to reread them again and again. I am thankful for WITHOUT THE FRILLS.

--José Olivarez, author of PROMISES OF GOLD

Without the Frills sets the stage: a post-Breaking Bad Albuquerque, a casting call for stereotypical Mexican roles, and a Tinseltown backdrop. Then Bella tears it all down. These are formally inventive and ruthlessly direct poems, told through the aching voice of a native watching Hollywood remake her hometown. In defiance of being turned into fiction, Without the Frills shouts “Give me / all of the way-too-human you can muster.” Anchored by a lineage of Chicana women who died being fully themselves or perhaps not themselves at all, this collection asks, What is the line between the roles we’re assigned and the roles we play?

—Noel Quiñones, author of Orange

It’s hard to capture the feeling of home in a poem, but Gigi manages to in Without the Frills. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s always been an honest voice, brave and unfiltered as un foto before instagram. But this collection brought tears to my eyes and landed right en mi corazón. She shines a sparkly light on mi gente and mi tierra, like a firecracker in the desert. She gives voice to those that usually reside squarely outside of the spotlight. Being inside her brain feels like when Dorothy’s life suddenly shifts to color. You want more - and you really don’t want to go back to just black and white. 

- Jennifer Sánchez, Broadway Actress in Real Women Have Curves, West Side Story

Without the Frills is more than a collection of poems. It is part tell-all, part telenovela and just as fun. It is Hollywood with no make-up on. It is an unflinching critique of the gray area between identity and performance, in verse, made for those of us who routinely find ourselves typecast into lives where we somehow survive above and below the line at the same time. From reminding us that our joy is not a liability to tackling the politics of "authenticity" that shame self-respecting New Mexicans who have a thing for Taco Bell, Gigi Bella is making a scene... and you're invited. - Hakim Bellamy, Inaugural Poet Laureate of Albuquerque

 Gigi Bella was born and raised in Tamalewood, that cute little nickname given to New Mexico once the filmmakers made their presence known in the state. From “Gamer” and “Terminator Salvation” to “Breaking Bad,” dozens of neo-westerns and TV series, the film industry has left a complex footprint on her homeland. She gives us a look through a poetic lens at the changing social and cultural landscapes that Hollywood enacts upon the Land of Enchantment. 

Her poems are firsthand accounts of the film industry in New Mexico, from behind the scenes and in front of the screens. She shapes personal experiences into poems that help us understand how the seemingly sudden celebrity of the state has impacted its community, how we view ourselves, and how the world sees us. All of these are reflections of what we are shown through the cameras. 

Without the Frills begins the next era of Gigi Bella’s poetry while embracing what she has always brought to the table: deeply personal poems, cultural and political responses, and as always, absolute honesty. 

- Damien Flores, City of Albuquerque Poet Laureate '24-'26

Without the Frills is a fearless, razor-sharp interrogation of performance, representation, and survival in a culture that consumes bodies while pretending not to see them. Moving between casting calls, monologues, pop-culture mythologies, and lived testimony, Gigi Bella exposes the violence embedded in entertainment language and reclaims voice as evidence. Urgent, unrelenting, and darkly funny, this collection is a reckoning with visibility, power, and the cost of being seen—and what it takes to survive being watched.
— Zachary Kluckman, author of the Two Sylvias Press Chapbook Prize–winning When I Say Ghost, I Don’t Mean Dead (selected by Oliver de la Paz) and #5 ranked slam poet in the nation (2022)