9 Habits That Prove We’re Extra AF When It Comes to Parties
This Latinx Heritage Month, mitú has partnered with Ricolino & Vero to bring you ritmo y fiesta… and a little bit of nostalgia, too. Now more than ever, we want to highlight how vibrant and special our communities have always been – through the foods, customs and celebrations that define nuestras vidas.
Whether it’s a quinceañera, a wedding, a baby shower, Noche Buena or Dia de los Muertos — we love any excuse to throw a party.
Celebration is in our DNA, along with being extra AF about pretty much everything. That must be why it’s both a sweet dream and a beautiful nightmare when we decide to get together for a pachanga.
Cue enough food to feed an entire island nation, several drunk tios and primos, kids running amok, dancing, shouting and your mom singing “El Rey” at the top of her lungs on the karaoke machine. But that’s after having several mini breakdowns about the house not being clean enough for guests.
With all that in mind, here are nine habits that prove how extra we truly are when it comes to parties, from never RSVP-ing (we don’t fully grasp this concept) to insisting that our guests take home entire trays of leftovers.
Why are we like this?
There is no such thing as “too much food” and to even imply it is blasphemous. There has to be a variety of options, too: plantains, tamales, salads, pastries, cakes and a whole roast pork, just to start. If you’re expecting 25 people, make sure there’s more than enough food for 50, because es mejor que sobre, me entiendes? The worst, most shameful thing that could befall your family is that the food runs out at your house party. Que. Pena. So, instead, we prefer to overpromise and overdeliver. That’s how it goes, right?
I know the following statement will come as a surprise to no one: we are a loud bunch. Not only when we’re angry or trying to communicate from across the room, but also when we’re happy, sad, hungry, full, tired and well-rested. The cacophony of voices at a party, mixed in with laughter, singing and mariachi music is a one-of-a-kind orchestra that could never be replicated… although we sure have fun trying every single time.
If you don’t change your outfit three times and have a panic attack right before the guests arrive because things aren’t ready yet, are you even a Latina? We devote so much time to cleaning and decorating for the big event that we tend to leave ourselves for last, scrambling to find something to wear as the doorbell begins to ring. There’s no solution for this, as planning ahead for this hiccup is simply not achievable for us. Good news is that the guests are typically running on a similar schedule. Party starts at 8 p.m.? Got it. I’ll be there at 10:30 p.m.
Every fiesta is a fashion show. Time to show off your newest look, from blonde highlights and blowouts to the new stiletto pumps you’ve been dying to estrenar — this is the time. Don’t be afraid to be bold because you won’t be the only one. Your oldest sister will try to outshine you in her red embroidered midi dress, but you’ve got better legs. Juventud, divino tesoro.
We don’t believe in RSVP-ing because we really value spontaneity. Also, we’ve got trust issues. So, just bring yourself, bring a date, bring a prima, bring your neighbor, bring your entire kickball league — we don’t care. Honestly, we want as many mouths to feed as possible, because that makes us feel like we’re fulfilling our purpose in life. Show up whenever you want, leave whenever you want, there are no rules here! Bring a bottle of tequila, a bottle of wine, a case of cerveza, your famous beef empanadas or nothing at all. We are just glad you came.
The house must be spotless at all times, but especially when there’s guests coming over. Every mirror and reflective surface must be spit-shined and resplendent; every nook and cranny must be scrubbed with a toothbrush. Imagine if judgey Tia Nancy were to find a speck of dust somewhere — you’d have your Latina card rescinded! And what then, mija? What then?
Parties involve a healthy amount of bragging. If you’re a parent, you brag about how well your kids are doing, even if they’re in year six of their bachelor’s degree and refuse to get a job due to the “vibes being off.” If you’re not a parent, you brag about yourself, about that new job, new car, new Michael Kors watch, the new novio who just took you to Disney World for your one-month anniversary. Everybody gets a turn to both share and act impressed; we are very egalitarian.
At a party, everybody has a role to play. Maybe you’re the hostess, making sure every person is greeted at the door, or you’re the second in command, making sure that the cooler is always full of ice. Maybe you’re the token crazy tia who just flew in from Tulum and tries to get everybody to do tequila shots. Maybe you’re in charge of making sure everybody’s on the dance floor when La Macarena plays. Better yet, maybe you’re in charge of starting the conga line. In the words of Shakespeare, “All the world’s a stage,” and it’s true. We can’t help it, we love the drama.
You’re likely to start off with a cervecita, only to follow it up with some hard liquor — rum or tequila — and before you know it, you’re jumping in the bounce house with your nephews and nieces. Or eating your weight in chips and guacamole in the kitchen. Or grinding on your cousin’s friend. We are the epitome of, “Si sabes como me pongo, porque me invitas?” And that’s the way we like it.
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