¡Hola! Me llamo Teresa, I'm 15 (FINALLY), and I'm a sophomore here in South Texas. This is the page about my quinceañera. My cousin Danielle helped me make it in July when everything was still just plans, and I've been adding to it every week. Last night it all really happened. I'm still wearing my tiara a little bit. Don't tell anybody.

En mi página: ¿Qué es una quinceañera? · La Misa · Mi corte · Mis padrinos · El vestido · El vals · La fiesta · The countdown · Guestbook

For my friends who have never been to one: a quinceañera is a girl's fifteenth birthday, the way we do it in Mexican families (and lots of other Latin American families too). It's when you stop being a little girl and start being a young woman. It starts with a Mass to thank God for your fifteen years, and then there's a huge party with your family and friends, with a court like at a wedding, a waltz, a big cake and dancing all night.

There are a lot of traditions. Some of the ones in mine: the tiara, the rosary, the last doll, my dad changing my flat shoes for high heels, the father-daughter waltz, and the brindis, which is the toast. Every family does it a little different. My mom had hers in Monterrey in 1972 and she says mine was bigger. My grandma says hers was a cake in the kitchen and a dance in the yard and she wouldn't change it.

The Mass was at 2:00 at our parish, the same church where I was baptized and made my First Communion. Father Weber said it, and he remembered my First Communion and told everybody I talked through the whole practice. (True.) My court walked in two by two ahead of me, and I walked in with my mom and dad.

I knelt on a white satin pillow that my grandma made, and Father blessed my medal and my rosary. Then I left my bouquet of pink roses at the altar of la Virgen de Guadalupe and said a prayer for my family. That was the part I was most nervous about and it turned out to be the part I liked best. It was so quiet. My mom cried. My dad said he didn't, but he did.

Seven damas and seven chambelanes, plus my chambelán de honor. We practiced every Sunday afternoon since the end of July in my tía's driveway, and only one person (Jeremy) ever fell down.

The damas wore rose-pink satin dresses with short sleeves and long skirts, and the chambelanes wore black tuxedos with pink vests and bow ties to match. They all looked SO good. Thank you all for every Sunday!!!

Padrinos are sponsors. Each one helps with a part of the quinceañera, and it's an honor to be asked. I had so much help. ¡Mil gracias a todos!

My mom and I and Tía Hazel went to five stores in July and I tried on probably forty dresses. It was the third one I tried on at the very first store. We went back and got it.

• Color: white, with pale pink everywhere.
• Top: off the shoulder, with little puffed sleeves, and the bodice all lace with pink sequins and tiny pearls sewn on in swirls.
• Skirt: HUGE. White satin with a hoop underneath, so big I had to go through doors sideways. There's a row of pink satin roses all around the hem and a little train in back.
• Tiara: rhinestones, with a little point in the front.
• Gloves: white satin, to the elbow.
• Shoes: flat white satin ones for the Mass, and then the heels (see below).

It needed taking in twice because I was so nervous I stopped eating in September. Then Mom made me start eating again.

My dad does NOT dance. He says he danced once, at his wedding, and that was enough. So from August on, we practiced the waltz in the garage at night, with the door down so the neighbors wouldn't see, to "Sobre las Olas" on my boom box. He counted out loud. One-two-three, one-two-three. The first two weeks he stepped on my feet so many times I started wearing my brother's soccer shin guards. By October he was GOOD. Like, really good.

At the party, before the waltz, my dad knelt down in front of everybody and took off my flat shoes and put on my high heels, my first ones. Everybody clapped. Then we danced, and he didn't count out loud once, and he didn't step on me, and I didn't cry until the very end.

Then my court did our waltz, and then the SURPRISE DANCE, which we practiced in secret for six weeks: a cumbia to Selena's "Baila Esta Cumbia," with the boys' jackets off and the girls' skirts held up so we could move. The whole salon went crazy. My grandma got up and danced. That's how you know.

The party was at the Knights of Columbus hall, decorated in pink and white with balloons and tulle and little candles on every table. About 250 people came. We had fajitas, arroz, frijoles a la charra, salad and tortillas, and my tías made the punch, two kinds (one for the grownups).

Order of the night: we came in (my court first, then me), the dinner, the brindis, the shoes and the waltz, the court's waltz, the surprise dance, the last doll, cutting the cake, and then the DJ played Tejano and cumbias and everything else until one in the morning. He played the Macarena twice. My tíos did it both times.

Tío Noel gave the brindis. He talked about when I was born and how I was so small he was afraid to hold me, and now look. Everybody raised their glasses. I held up my champagne glass full of sparkling grape juice. (I'm FIFTEEN.)

PICTURES COMING SOON!!!
As soon as the photographer sends the proofs, I'll pick my favorites and put them right here. My cousin Danielle says she can scan them at her school.

Sign my guestbook!

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E-mail me: [email protected]
Last updated Sunday, October 18, 1998