We were in San Diego a few months ago, wandering around Balboa Park. It’s a big, glorious collection of buildings in a sort of Spanish Baroque style, all dripping with massive tiles and arches and statues, and the next time I go I will stay for days in the square and take my rickety folding stool and my paints and play artist as I so badly wanted to do.
As we were there in early spring, there were many, many quinces with their well dressed man-minions taking photos for their Quinceañeras. The gowns were incredible. California is wealthier than the places I’ve lived with a strong Latina/o population, (Texas, Colorado) and also, I imagine, the scene has exploded just as the wedding scene has, so everybody was just wonderfully over the top.
Annabelle (age 7) was enthralled. At one point she spotted another one come out of a limo, and she tugged on her Mom’s arm and said, “Look! Another princess!”
Anthony and I were at the rose garden this afternoon and I saw what was surely the best princess of all, in a bold fushia-pink dress with wide hips and fantastic details. She was there with another one. Two princesses in the rose garden! We’ll have to tell Annabelle. Their gowns were so wide that they were getting trapped in the thin pathways between the roses.