Daniela Calle and María José Garzón — known to nearly 40 million people as Calle y Poché — started a YouTube channel in 2015 because they loved each other and liked talking to a camera. Ten years later, they have written bestselling books, starred in a Prime Video docuserie, launched a Colombian coffee brand, and built one of the most genuinely trusted communities on the internet. This is a story about what happens when two people decide to be completely themselves in public — and what that costs, and what it creates.
There is a specific kind of creator who comes along and changes the coordinates of what is possible. Not because they were the first, or the loudest, or the most polished — but because they were the most honest. Daniela Calle and María José Garzón were that kind of creator before the industry had a category for them.
They uploaded their first video on November 1, 2015. The format was simple: four challenges in four minutes and twenty-seven seconds, two young women from Bogotá having fun in front of a camera. There was no strategy behind it, no content calendar, no brand brief. There was just the two of them — and, already, the feeling that something real was happening.
What followed is one of the more remarkable stories in the history of Latin American digital media. Today, Calle y Poché have 7.3 million YouTube subscribers and nearly five million Instagram followers — and that is before counting the tens of millions who follow them across TikTok, Spotify, and every other platform they have touched. They are the authors of two bestselling books. They host a podcast called Bilateral. Their Prime Video docuserie, Sin Etiquetas (No Labels), follows them at the peak of their careers as they return to Colombia to confront the challenges of their romantic relationship and individual ambitions. And in 2024, they added one more thing to the list: The Daily Date Coffee, a Colombian coffee brand born from the idea that a cup of coffee can be the most meaningful appointment of your day.
None of this happened because they followed a playbook. It happened because they refused to.
In 2017, at a moment when coming out publicly in Colombia carried real personal and professional risk, Daniela and Poché told the truth about who they were to each other. The response rewrote what was possible for LGBTQ+ creators in Latin America — and for anyone, anywhere, who had been waiting for permission to be themselves.
That is the through-line of everything Calle y Poché have built: permission. The permission to be specific, to be vulnerable, to be fully yourself in public without giving your entire self away. They figured out something the creator economy is only now beginning to articulate — that the most universal stories are the most particular ones, and that the deepest connection comes not from performing authenticity but from actually having it.
OI Magazine sat down with Daniela Calle and María José Garzón for a conversation about ten years of building in public, what they know now that the industry is still learning, and what they want to build next.
You started on YouTube in 2015 before most people understood what a content creator even was. Looking back, what did you know then that the industry is only figuring out now?
I don’t think we knew it consciously, but looking back, we can highlight the fact that people don’t connect with perfection; they connect with authenticity. We were two girls who loved each other profoundly, who enjoyed having fun and being goofy together, and who were discovering themselves and what their unique universe looked and felt like.
Back then, there wasn’t a playbook or a manual. We weren’t creating for hooks, watch time, engagement, or algorithms because most of us didn’t even know what those words meant. Being a content creator wasn’t really a thing, and definitely not in Colombia. Brands didn’t get it. Even people we knew thought it was cringey to talk to a camera. There wasn’t an algorithm that allowed you to go viral with little effort. Things were different.
We were simply documenting our lives, our dynamic, our feelings, and our passions, which included makeup, art, dance, travel, food, and talking about things that felt real to us.
Now, ten years later, I think the industry is rediscovering something that was always true: audiences can tell when they’re being marketed to versus when they’re being invited into a genuine conversation. Technology changes every year. Human connection doesn’t.
You built your audience in Spanish, rooted in Colombian culture, and became one of the most recognized creator duos in Latin America. At what point did you realize the reach was going global — and did that change how you create?
We started noticing it when people from countries we’d never visited were showing up at airports, hotels, and events, translating our content, and sending us messages from other continents.
That was a really powerful reminder that emotions travel better than language. The details of our lives are Colombian, but the feelings behind them are universal. Our cachers have made us realize that the community we’ve created is truly global. We have this huge family with members all around the world.
It didn’t change what we create, but it changed our confidence in creating it. Instead of trying to make our stories more universal, we realized the opposite was true: the more “us” we were, the more people saw themselves in them. We’re all human. We all have insecurities, dreams, wounds, and superpowers. We all fall in love, we all cry, and we all want to heal, learn, and have fun.
Currently, we’re trying to broaden our reach even further. Even though there’s AI and a million tools that can help creators reach people anywhere in the world without language or location barriers, we’re still challenging ourselves to create content in English here and there so we can practice alongside our cachers and connect with new ones as well.
It’s a full-circle moment because, back in the day, we dreamed of creating bilingual content. We even had an English channel while we were still living in Colombia.
Coming out publicly in 2017 was described as the hardest step of your careers. How did that moment reshape your relationship with your audience — and with each other?
It changed everything.
Before that moment, there was a part of our lives that we were carrying and trying to figure out on our own. Sharing it publicly wasn’t just about telling people who we were; it was about finally allowing ourselves to show up in the world as our unapologetic selves. It was a necessary step in accepting ourselves and giving ourselves permission to live freely.
What surprised us most was how many people found permission through our story. We thought we were sharing something personal. What we learned was that vulnerability creates community. It creates a domino effect that empowers others to pursue their own freedom as well. And they, in turn, become that source of motivation for the people around them.
It opened a safe space that didn’t exist before for millions of people who saw themselves reflected in us. We became the face of a movement rooted in being ourselves, love, community, and acceptance.
A lot of creator couples either overshare or disappear. You’ve found a third way — specific, honest, but clearly boundaried. How do you decide together what stays on camera and what doesn’t?
We’ve learned that not every meaningful moment or part of our lives and relationship needs an audience.
For a long time, creators were encouraged to treat access as authenticity. We don’t necessarily believe that’s true anymore. We started losing track of what was ours and what belonged to the world. The lines became blurry. We felt like we had to share every single thing that crossed our minds, touched our hearts, or happened in our day-to-day lives, and a lot of that oversharing and overgiving ended up being damaging to us.
Some of the most important parts of a relationship deserve to exist only between the people living them, and we’ve chosen to keep certain things, aspects, experiences, and moments for ourselves. It also depends on what we’re going through personally and the timing of it all. Sometimes we’ll share something that happened to us months later. Sometimes we’ll need more time. Sometimes certain things that are deeply ours remain just ours. It fluctuates, and that’s healthy.
Our rule is simple: we share experiences once we’ve decided there’s a reason to share them. If we’re still processing something, if we feel it isn’t really meant to be shared, if it’s not safe for us, or if we simply don’t feel it in our gut, then it belongs to us first.
The goal has never been to give up the privilege of living our entire lives while still having the right to keep parts of them for ourselves. It’s to create a safe space, to grow together, and to build a supportive, artistic, and loving community.
You’ve written two books, launched a podcast, starred in a Prime Video docuserie, and founded a coffee brand. Most creators pick one lane. What drives you to keep building new things — and how do you decide what’s worth your time?
We’ve never seen ourselves as content creators first. We’ve always seen ourselves as creators.
We met at a Musical Theater Academy. We were artists, actresses, dancers, painters, writers, singers, filmmakers, editors, and makeup artists long before we ever posted a video on social media. So, for us, it has always been about creating things, experiences, a safe space, growth, art, entertainment, and storytelling.
Sometimes a story becomes a video. Sometimes it becomes a book. Sometimes it becomes a conversation on a podcast. Sometimes it becomes a physical product people can hold in their hands. A reality show, a song, a music video, an article, a coffee brand. The medium changes, but the intention stays the same.
As for deciding what’s worth our time, we’ve become much more selective. We ask ourselves one question: would we still want to build this if nobody was watching? If the answer is yes, it’s usually a good sign.
The Daily Date started as a coffee brand but feels like an extension of your whole worldview around relationships and daily rituals. What do you want it to become?
The Daily Date was never just about coffee, and that’s what makes it magical. That doesn’t eliminate the fact that the coffee is amazing quality, Colombian, and that we really care about the coffee itself being the best possible. But it’s about creating small moments of presence in a world that’s constantly asking for our attention. The name comes from this idea that the most important relationship you’ll ever have is the one you maintain daily: with yourself, with the people you love, with your life, with your partners, with your family, with your creativity.
We’d love for it to become a platform that encourages intentional living. Coffee is just the first expression of that idea.
You’ve watched this industry go from “YouTubers” to a multi-billion dollar economy with its own awards shows, agencies, and trade press. What still frustrates you about how brands approach creators — and what gives you hope?
What still frustrates us is when creators are treated as distribution channels instead of creative partners. When “selling” becomes more important than finding creative ways to reach new people, discovering new forms of communication, pushing creativity further, and creating meaningful work that reflects a brand’s values, its “why,” and allows everyone involved to enjoy the process.
People see the audience and forget about the years spent learning storytelling, community-building, production, strategy, and culture. Great creators aren’t media placements. They’re creative companies.
What gives us hope is that more brands are starting to understand that. The best collaborations today feel less like advertising and more like co-creation. And that’s a pillar of our work ethic.
Latin American creators are finally getting the global visibility they’ve always deserved. What do you think unlocked that — and what still needs to change?
For years, Latin America wasn’t lacking talent. It was lacking opportunities. It was lacking attention.
The internet became more global, audiences became more open to different languages, and platforms made discovery easier. Suddenly people realized what we had known all along — that some of the most creative, resilient, and culturally influential storytellers in the world come from Latin America.
We’ve been in the U.S. for over five years, and during that time we’ve realized we have a huge audience here as well. Brands like Bodyarmor have recognized the value of the career we’ve built and have chosen to bet on us. Partnerships like these are helping change the landscape for Latin creators and opening doors for greater representation and opportunities in the industry. Queer Sapphic
We have a unique flavor, a distinct perspective, and a cultural background that is undeniable. The diversity of our stories, culture, and ways of expressing ourselves has enriched every platform and industry we’ve touched.
What still needs to change is the infrastructure. We need to be valued equally, compensated fairly, and recognized for the cultural impact many creators have, as well as for the incredible communities they’ve built and carry with them.
You describe yourselves as artists, authors, entrepreneurs, and podcasters. Ten years from now, which of those words matters most to you?
Artists.
Because every other label can evolve. The platforms will change. The businesses will change. The formats will change. But being an artist is our commitment beneath all of it: staying curious, paying attention, and turning experiences into something meaningful. Having fun, creating, exploring, evolving, healing, and contributing.
What is the one project — the one thing you haven’t done yet — that you’re most excited to build?
We’ve spent years building communities online, and lately we’ve become fascinated by creating physical spaces where people can connect in real life.
Getting away from screens and creating opportunities for real, in-person connection has always been an important part of our journey. But today we would definitely say it’s becoming one of our biggest priorities.
We don’t know exactly what shape that will take yet, but we’re increasingly interested in creating experiences, places, and communities that bring people together in a deeper, more meaningful way.
Nine years together, as partners and as a creative team. What has the other person taught you about yourself that you couldn’t have learned any other way?
Daniela: Poché taught me that fear is often a liar. She taught me that I am capable of unimaginable things, that I can trust myself and my ability to step outside my comfort zone, that courage can be learned, and that some of the most incredible things in life exist on the other side of comfort and certainty.
Poché: Daniela taught me that growth doesn’t always have to happen through force. Sometimes it happens because someone believes in you long enough that you start believing in yourself too. She taught me that we’ve loved each other through the best and worst moments of our lives, and that choosing to be together is a daily decision we’ve happily made for ten years and counting.
We’ve spent almost a decade witnessing each other become different people over and over again: growing, learning, unlearning unhealthy patterns, experiencing life, and expanding our minds and hearts.
That’s been the gift: learning that real love isn’t about finding someone who never changes. It’s about choosing to stay curious about who they’re becoming.
Calle y Poché’s coffee brand, The Daily Date, is available at thedailydatecoffee.com. Their Prime Video docuserie Sin Etiquetas is streaming now. Their podcast Bilateral is available on all major platforms.