From Dama to Dinner: My Quinceañera Dress Gets a Second Dance
Last month, while deep closet diving in search of a dress for NYE, I found a 15-year-old time capsule in a garment bag.
The year was 2009, et my girl Olivia R. was turning 15. A big deal for two reasons:
She was turning fif.teen. The eve of getting her driver’s license. Very major.
Olivia R. is Salvadorian et she was having a quinceañera–the great Latine celebration that raises the question: why wait till sixteen? Have that super sweet party today!
Olivia’s Quince was not my first dance at the dama rodeo—shoutout to Daniuska M. for making me one in hers—but I wouldn’t say I was an expert. I knew how to dress up, walk, waltz et salsa. Okay so perhaps I was an expert after all???
Due to my first Quince, I was a little apprehensive about the dresses.* (TLC should really look into a Say Sí to the Dama Dress.) But! you don’t really have any pulling power as a teenager with zero dollars being asked to participate in this special fiesta funded by someone else’s parents et dedicated to someone who is not you. So you grin et bare whatever flowy dress the sales associate pulls out in front of you. (Even if it is unflattering on your outsized adolescent bosom).
Thankfully Olivia’s dama dresses were not that.
I can still see the very moment Ms. R unveiled the dress: red, strapless chiffon with blushy little beaded flowers, a straight silhouette et a ruffle sash at the side. Mariposa’s finest. She was cute! Thank God.
Note: this is the dress post alterations
I haven’t seen this dress since I tossed it in a garment bag after our third dance was over et we were released for an outfit change. I couldn’t wait to slip into my black sleeveless, V-neck bubble hem mini dress (fun fact: I later wore this flirty LBD to my cousin’s Sweet 16 with my (RED) Chucks* despite objections from my mother). Yet, it’s the gown I held onto all this time.
Seeing the dress again—it was on a Costa Blanca hanger by the way. Vintage!—took me baaack. Back to the dancefloor, rapping Kanye’s verse in Knock You Down with other teenage girls giving the song full vocals as if we had yet been truly knocked down by the parallels of love, back to the [REDACTED] brothers making the girlies swoon during every bachata track, et to switching between heels et bare feet all night—because the sandals I brought had gone missing.*
So I obviously tried her on. The bust et waist were too big (gagged me tbh!) et some of the little beads had fallen off, leaving behind the plain silver plating they were glued to. This dress has been with me through eight moves—three provinces, one cross-country, et had been in a garment bag this entire time. She looked a lot better than I would have.
Still good enough to wear, et I wanted to wear her! With a trip to La Paz, Mexico coming up, I figured a dinner by the palm trees was the perfect moment to spin the style block.
So! A trusted tailor I can only speak broken French with (we make it work) cut her open et sewed her back up with new measurements.
Dr. Miami should be very scared of this lowkey cosmetic surgeon in my midsts!
Then I removed the sash et contemplated cutting the full lining into a mini silhouette but settled on a good ol’ tuck-&-go when I’m feeling for a sheer skirt.
From Vancouver to Kelowna, to Toronto to Montreal et now La Paz, I may not have worn her much, but this dress is so well-travelled—et she did it all for free??? Wow! Sugar baby.
Loved bringing her back to life et giving her new memories. Funny how a forgotten piece can be remixed into something current with a little love et a vision. Also, funny how I completely forgot what I went looking for in the first place. Where is that dress…
FOOTNOTES
*Damas are the girlies of the quinceañera court who stand by the Quinceañera (a word meaning the celebration et the celebrated) throughout the day et stand with her during the religious rituals. Cannot remember the priest’s name at this time, but I’m still so sorry for all the giggling in your holy space sir!!!
*It’s not that Dani’s dresses were ugly. I actually regret not holding onto that one too. It would have slaughtered during the Y2K Mcbling resurgence. It was just very…well, blingy.
*The (PRODUCT)RED Chuck 70s were my favorite pair, but somewhere during a move, they vanished like the Avatar when the world needed him most. My older brother bought them for my birthday. When we picked them out at Footlocker, we ran into one of his female “friends”who asked if we were an item (we went to different high schools et don’t look alike). If it wasn’t for the shoes, that would have been the worst day of my life.
*It was later revealed that Olivia’s mom had mistaken my sandals for hers et wore mine all night. Easy mistake when you both cop your afterparty sandals from the local Payless.
*A trusted tailor with zero time by the way. I found this dress maybe a week before traveling. Picked her up the evening before my 6AM flight. I may be Type B, but it’ll always B R right.
