Princesses of Guadalajara

In Guadalajara city center, I found the most hideous dress I have ever seen. It put every Disney princess dress to shame, with a bright orange bodice, white and orange synthetic feathers covering a puffy, flowing skirt, and faery wings attached to the back. If you have money in Guadalajara, you can be a princess, a faery, and a bird all at once. I stepped up to take a picture of my discovery only to be turned away by the shop keeper. No pictures allowed. This dress was something special. We walked on.

Lucky for my camera and friends back home, the law of hideousness was in effect. You know the law, when you discover something terrible and then you find it everywhere. It can be a horrible scent, a bad habit in strangers, or store after store of hideous and brightly colored dresses. I keep my camera ready and in great stealth snapped a picture. I can´t even begin to wonder at their use, but it appears every woman in Guadalajara either owns or desires to own one of these dresses.

And there are shoes. Store after store of shoes. While enjoying an ice cream in the shopping plaza, I took note of my surroundings. Three shoe stores stacked one on top of the other, followed by two dress stores, cross the plaza for alternating shoe and dress stores. I counted and within view of my ice cream eating perch, there were 5 shoe stores and 8 dress stores. What demanding population can support this supply? I wonder, agast at the bright colors of flowing fabrics and walls and walls of similar looking shoes.

But, my dear Princesses of Guadalajara, the wonder doesn´t stop there. Oh no! Should you find yourself in your dress with empty arms, you can also buy a matching doll to accompany you. Or perhaps the dolls are for training up princesses at a young age. At this point, I have absolutely no idea into the thought processes of these women and instead stand in awe of it all.

A video inside one of the stores enlightens my wondering. In Mexico, there is a phenomenon known as the Quinceanos. This is a coming of age party for mothers and daughters where young men and fathers are forced to wear suits and dance, I´m told by my friend. Crazy things for women, he adds, not willing to share his own experience at a party many years ago. The women of Guadalajara take the Quinceanos one step further, with shoes, brightly colored dresses, and matching little dolls.

As we leave the city center, we see the missing accessory for the Princesses of Guadalajara. They stand there in waiting on a nearly deserted street corner. Row after row of horse drawn carriages, waiting to whisk away daddy´s little girl to the night of her life. The princess within me calls out for my dress and my shoes, but I successfully fight off the urge to fill my backpack with both.