My Quinceañera
Ever since I was a child I dreamt of having a quinceañera. Every time I walked past dress shops, I stood in awe and envisioned myself wearing a white ball gown and making my debut as a young woman. Many childhood mornings were spent in the dining room sketching quinceañera dresses and invitations on scrapbook paper. I always remember wanting one. Shortly after I turned 14, my mom and I booked the Mass.
My quinceañera took place on Jan. 21, 2006. That day started off with my cousin’s girlfriend coming to my house and doing my hair and makeup.
Once my 14 damas arrived, we all squeezed into a black Hummer limousine that my parents had rented for us. Everyone was using Hummer limousines, and I just had to have one too.
The Mass took place at St. Alphonsus Catholic Church located in East Los Angeles, the same church where my parents got married, where I was baptized and where I had done my first Communion.
This was the time before Instagram and Pinterest. I remember that my mom would buy bridal magazines and I would flip through them for hours to get ideas for dresses. I spent many weekends walking along Broadway in downtown Los Angeles and going into dress shops and decoration stores.
My quinceañera was a time for all of my extended family and friends to come together. Some of my relatives came from Mexico just for the celebration.
Since it was my day, my mom gave me a lot of leeway in making many of the decisions. I chose a celebration of various shades of coral and gold. I selected “Precious Moments”-themed invitations and pillows, and Cinderella-inspired flower arrangements.
My damas wore coral-colored dresses that had hints of gold when turned at a certain angle. My mom wore a dusty-pink dress and my godmother wore a red dress.
All of the dresses were made by Teresa, the seamstress who also made my First Communion dress and who made my prom dress a few years later. I took my bridal magazines and I met with her in her small in-home studio in the El Sereno neighborhood on Los Angeles’ Eastside.
My dress was simple; it was white and had white lace detailing with a few beads. It also had beaded spaghetti straps. This meant I had to cover up for church and wore a white shawl. Since my party was in January and it was chilly, I wore a sweater for most of the evening, thus covering the dress’ details.
Being the center of attention as a shy teenager was not easy. My favorite part was probably dancing to Chayanne’s “Tiempo de Vals” (or “Waltz Time”) with my damas and my chambelán, who happened to be one of my older brothers. I picked him because, as he was my brother, I felt comfortable around him and because I couldn’t think of any boy to fill that role.
My quinceañera was also the first time that I got to dance with my dad and brothers. While I did enjoy dancing with those closest to me, I dreaded the expectation of having to dance, so I chose not to have a surprise dance and avoided the dance floor as my cousin spun tunes from his DJ set.
As with many of the girls I talked to for this project, planning my quinceañera and the day itself was also stressful. A week before my celebration, my sister and one of my damas got hit by a car while walking to school — luckily it was minor and they were OK. The reception hall also opened later than expected, and as a result we did not have enough time to decorate.
Being their first daughter, it was important for my parents to have a quinceañera for me.
Buying things was also stressful because I noticed how fast costs accumulated. On one hand I wanted to splurge because I was only having a quinceañera once, but on the other hand I felt guilty that my parents were spending hundreds of dollars on the smallest details like invitations and quinceañera favors.
My dad works as a maintenance mechanic and is the sole income provider of the household. I always dreaded asking my parents how much money they spent on the celebration. When I finally asked my mother, she said that they had spent between $10,000 and $12,000. My mom said that they saved to make things happen. Speaking in Spanish, she reassured me, “We knew the expense so we prepared.”
After having a quinceañera, I didn’t know how to feel. I wasn’t sure if I had to feel or act more grown-up, if I had more responsibilities, or if I had permission to do more things. I did feel a little more grown-up and felt a sense of more independence, since it was the year when I got to spend more time with friends and more time out of the house.
Afterward, I also realized that my quinceñera was about more than wearing a nice dress or having nice things, but that it was also a day to celebrate my religion, my culture and my family.