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The Quinceañera paraded towards centre stage. Her pace and demeanor hid a could-burst-at-any-moment melange of emotions that had been stirring within her. Soon her father would sadly slip off her ballet slippers and reluctantly and haphazardly slide her shaking feet into the towers of femininity...
I photographed a Sweet 16 last night. It brought back memories of my own Quinceañera way back.
This celebration was in step with all the details of the traditional presentation of the young woman to society. From the number of damas and galans to the gown to the slipper-heel custom to the waltz...
It got me thinking about traditions and how they remain entranched in some and gets lost in others.
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