The Town for a Cinderella Gown
Beatriz Cisneros, daughter Roxan and her friend Lizzett Santa Cruz swooped into one of the many bridal shops on Santa Ana’s 4th Street like hunters tracking prey.
Gem-studded tiaras in clear plastic boxes lined the shelves to their right. To their left were displays of satin altar pillows, lace-trimmed photo albums, gold-rimmed champagne glasses and silver crucifixes. A sewing machine hummed in the background.
The accessories could wait. The trio from the San Bernardino County city of Bloomington were stalking bigger game -- the perfect gown for Lizzett’s upcoming quinceanera -- a sort of Latina version of a debutante’s ball, baptism and prom rolled into one.
Nothing less than “a Cinderella kind of dress” would do, Lizzett said.
For 15-year-old Latinas preparing for this coming-of-age rite -- a growing and increasingly opulent celebration observed by many Latino cultures -- the ideal hunting ground is a three-block strip from Bush Street to Broadway where more than 15 storefront windows are bedecked with chiffon, tulle and satin and the promise of dresses for every formal occasion.
Quinceanera comes from the Spanish phrase “fifteen years old” (quince anos). The origin of the custom is centuries old -- a marriage of European court balls and indigenous New World coming-of-age rituals. Common elements are a Catholic Mass, in which baptismal vows are renewed, and a white or pink bell-shaped gown for the birthday girl.
But the gown and Mass are just the first entries on the modern quinceanera planning list. One-upmanship has broken out, not just in Santa Ana, but across the country. Even families of modest means are spending thousands of dollars on the celebration, said Sylvia Martinez, editor in chief of New York-based Latina magazine. The publication covers Latino culture nationwide.
“Lately there seems to be a trend -- you know, ‘keeping up with the Garcias’ -- in trying to provide the best party for your daughter,” Martinez said. “Quinceaneras are now second only to weddings and funerals as far as expense.”
Many in the Latino community fear that like other youthful celebrations co-opted by American commercialism -- bar mitzvahs and proms, among them -- the quinceanera is in danger of becoming little more than a lavish party.
On a recent Sunday after church, 4th Street buzzed. Ranchera music wafted from a passing car as merchants hawked wares from storefronts. Families strolling the red brick sidewalk were handed fliers for cellular-phone plans, travel agencies, immigration services and beauty salons.
They are busy days for bridal shops because parents are off work and there is always someone looking for a quinceanera gown, said Guillermina Madriles, 51, owner of Mina Bridal. Brides prefer spring weddings, but someone is always turning 15, she said.
Madriles illustrates her own product: feminine elegance. Her large diamond ring sparkles like a disco ball as she strides through her shop with a model’s grace. She arrived in California from Mexico City as a teenager with $40 in her pocket and now also owns two jewelry stores.
Mina Bridal was her third jewelry store, until 12 years ago when she converted it into one of what were only a handful of dress shops on 4th Street at the time, she said.
But even with five times as many stores on the street today, she sells double the number of dresses she did when she first opened, about 30 a month. They range from $300 for off-the-rack gowns to $3,000 to $4,000 for custom creations.
That’s especially true now that girls buy more than just gowns, Madriles said. She produced a 30-item checklist from behind her glass counter: limousine; photographer; salon appointment; mementos of the occasion for guests; rosary; flowers; red carpet; band; dance hall; food. She either sells the item or knows somebody who does.
Parents hosting a quinceanera appoint friends and family to be padrinos -- Spanish for godparents -- in charge of purchasing an item. There can be, for example, the padrinos of the engraved cake server, the scepter, the commemorative Bible and prayer-book set.
“You better have a lot of friends or you are going to end up paying a lot,” Madriles said with a wink.
A family preparing for a quinceanera can spend more than $10,000. That may not fit every family’s budget, but who would want to give their daughter anything less, Madriles asked.
Certainly not Beatriz Cisneros, whose ninth-grade daughter will turn 15 this summer. After helping family friend Lizzett look for a dress, mother and daughter strolled through Mina’s looking for a cake centerpiece.
It has taken Cisneros, a homemaker, and Roxan about a year to plan for the Aug. 30 celebration. Her husband, a house painter, has taken twice as long to save the money.
“There was the dress, the hall, the church, and then the smaller things,” Roxan said. A mariachi band will perform during dinner, then musical duties will be handed over to a more modern dance band for the reception -- “so the kids can dance,” her mother said.
About the only detail the younger Cisneros could not immediately rattle off about her special day was the cost. She turned to her mother.
“About $15,000,” Beatriz Cisneros said softly.
“Only people with money could have a quinceanera,” she said of her girlhood in the Mexican state of Guerrero. “If we couldn’t do this for our daughter, why come to this country?”
Diocese of Orange Auxiliary Bishop Jaime Soto has watched the escalating size and expense of quinceaneras and doesn’t approve.
“In the 20 years that I have been a priest, the celebration has lost its sense of proportion,” Soto said.
In the Mexican American culture, the quinceanera observance has roots that predate Columbus, Soto said. Indigenous American cultures ushered a young girl -- around age 15 -- into her role as wife and mother. The custom survived the arrival of Europeans and Catholicism, but he said the tradition is proving less resilient against the latest cultural contaminant.
“It has become more American in its celebration of independence and money and extravagance.”
Santa Ana churches perform the largest number of quinceaneras in the Diocese of Orange, Soto said. The church does not tally the number of quinceanera Masses because it is only a popular practice as opposed to a formal church rite or sacrament. But even with eight parish churches, “we still can’t keep up,” he said. Most parishes now perform a group service for several girls at once.
Luz Garcia will receive her quinceanera blessing in a group. The student at Santa Ana’s Valley High School trailed her mother, Luz Villareal, into Mina’s shop recently for a final fitting.
Unlike Roxan Cisneros’ family, Luz’s Mass will be followed by a small gathering at their Santa Ana home. Like Beatriz Cisneros, Villareal wanted her daughter to have what she did not when she turned 15 in the Mexican state of Zacatecas.
And so her landscaper husband, Jose Manuel Garcia, saves, a little at a time, for Luz’s big day.
In a fitting room, Luz Garcia slipped into her white dress, and Madriles instructed her how to fan the flaring satin skirt. Luz could only stare at herself in the mirror, smiling as she ran her hands along the rose-trimmed satin.
“This makes me really proud of my parents,” she said. “I know they are really trying hard for me.”
“It’s the dream we all hold when we turn 15,” her mother said. “I hope she never forgets it.”
Villareal thought back to her own childhood, and her eyes welled with tears. Then mother and daughter smiled at each other as if they were the only two people on 4th Street.
