Area girl lives dream at super Sweet 16

The aroma of hair spray and perfumes drifts from Ashley Crimmins' room.

Inside, eight screeching 15- and 16-year-old girls compete for space in front of a mirror, dig through piles of clothes on the floor to find their shoes, and help one another get ready.

They are talking so fast, they barely pause to breathe.

"Do I look like a witch with these nails?"

"Are you really going to wear those socks?"

"You look sooo cute!"

"Ohmygod! I need a bobby pin. Now!"

Balancing tenuously on Betsey Johnson hot-pink stiletto sandals, Ashley grabs a purse from her walk-in closet. She throws the pink Chanel purse over her shoulder and turns from side to side, checking the mirror to see how well it looks with her outfit. She decides against it and dashes back to the closet for another choice.

She needs to look perfect tonight. It's her Sweet 16 birthday party - the party she has been dreaming about since she was a little girl and has been actively planning for six months. With a guest list of more than 100, it promises to be one the region's most elaborate Sweet 16 parties of the year.

Ashley's dad has reserved a ballroom at the Antler's Hilton. Guests are asked to dress to the nines. A pink limo will deliver the birthday girl and some of her friends to the downtown hotel. Guests will be served "moctinis" (mock martinis), and dip fruit and cookies into a chocolate fountain. Many will receive expensive party favors including designer handbags.

You don't even want to know what Ashley will get from her parents.

Her chariot awaits

Ashley left school early to get her hair done. She's wearing a black-and-pink Betsey Johnson dress with an oversized pink bow on the front.

One by one, each girl pronounces herself ready as soon as she puts on her stilettos.

Ashley's dad, Dave Crimmins, announces that the limo has arrived.

"Let's go, folks," Ashley's mom, Mary Crimmins, yells over the crush of teenagers.

"Time is money."

She herds the teens toward the Pepto-Bismol-pink limo. Before it pulls out, a window rolls downs and Ashley yells, "Bye, Mom, I love you!"

Is it too much?

Ashley knows the party will seem ostentatious to some. But the budding dancer/singer/actress loves being the center of attention and going all out with everything she does.

"It's not that I'm trying to outdo anyone's party," she says. "But I love California and Hollywood, where everything is bigger. Everyone thinks of me as the girl who goes over the top."

She watches MTV's "My Super Sweet 16," which features parties costing many thousands of dollars, the budgets often exceeding that of most weddings.

By these standards, Ashley's party is tame. Still, it's big for Colorado Springs, and huge for the Crimmins household.

To help keep Ashley grounded, Dave Crimmins came up with a plan. The entrepreneur started his first business when he was 19, and now owns several restaurants, including Crimmins Cattle Company and Dickey Doogan's in the Midwest. Wanting to instill hard work and industriousness in his daughter, he made two major conditions: Ashley couldn't have a 15th birthday party, and she would have to pay for part of this party.

"I like shopping a lot and he didn't think I'd be able to do it," Ashley said. "But I was determined."

She had to pay the money upfront - no loans - so she cut out shopping, did extra chores and saved her allowance. She also started a small business, buying designer accessories wholesale and reselling them for profit.

She was supposed to pay for 10 percent of the party, but when the budget got too high, she had to pay extra. In all, she paid $600 - or about 15 percent - of her $4,000 party.

Corners were cut: Dinner was pizza, the Crimminses provided their own chocolate fountain, and the guest list wasn't as big as Ashley had wanted. Still, she was able to plan a party that was "almost exactly" as she had imagined it would be.

None of her classmates at Doherty High is having a party as big as hers, she said.

"People who don't know me might judge me. But if they won't take the time to get to know me and what I'm like, then I don't care what they think."

Mary Crimmins was a little hesitant about the party at first. Then she started thinking of other local teens' extensive bat and bar mitzvahs and quinceañeras; Ashley's plans didn't seem too extravagant.

"Our friends that know us know our lifestyle and how we live. They know we give our kids the best we can without spoiling them, and we are humble people," she says.

"There's a fine line you walk when you have an event like this. With the economy the way it is, life as we know it could change. But this was money that we had set aside."

Party time

As Ashley and her guests arrive at the hotel about 7:30 p.m., she just wants to have fun.

Guests pour out of the lobby to greet the limousine. About 100 teens stand at the edges of a red carpet at the entrance and start screaming when the limo arrives. The arriving teens hesitate until Ashley grabs the arm of one of them, smiles and starts her way down the red carpet, ready to party.

The Crimmins have rented two small ballrooms, and standing in front is a bouncer who isn't afraid to throw out anyone who isn't on the guest list. The guests wear black and white to highlight Ashley, alone in black and pink. The decorations are black, white and pink.

Music is pulsing, multicolored lights flash in every direction, and a thin layer of fog is creeping a few inches above the dance floor. Within five minutes the stilettos have come off and almost every girl is dancing barefoot. The guys, a little more nervous, are standing at the edge of the dance floor.

After about half an hour, the teens loosen up. Perhaps too much. Chaperones work quickly to break up any "dirty dancing."

"I feel like a big ol' meanie," says Grandma Crimmins as she breaks up her fifth couple of the night. At about 8:30 p.m., Dave Crimmins walks onstage and signals the DJ to turn down the music.

Ashley cringes.

"Hi everyone," he says into the microphone. "I hope that everyone is having fun. But I just want you to know that tonight there will be no bumping front to back, and no girls bending over. There's a fine line. Don't cross it."

Ashley buries her face in her hands. She rushes over to him.

"Dad, did you really have to do that?"

"Yes," he says firmly. "I don't want people dancing like that."

The party calms down a bit and some teens wander out of the ballrooms to talk. Just getting an invitation was a bit of an accomplishment. The party has been talked about for weeks at school, and about 20 teens were refused entrance because they weren't on the guest list.

None of the teens could remember attending a bigger Sweet 16 party, and some classmates were envious.

"Are you kidding? It's girls in high school," says Derrick Nelson, 16. "Of course they're jealous."

Courtney Hawkins, 15, and Morgan Singleton, 15, sort through the coat rack, looking for their cell phones.

They are happy they were invited and are blown away by the extravagance. When they turn 16, they know their parties won't be like this.

"It's too much. I'm not as wealthy as she is," Courtney says.

"For her, it fits, but not for us," Morgan adds.

The partygoers have nothing but nice things to say about Ashley. The party is a bit over-the-top, but Ashley's a fun and a nice person, they say.

Ashley's 27-year-old sister, Melissa Klug, is having fun taking pictures. She doesn't mind that she didn't get such a big party when she turned 16. She wouldn't have asked for it anyway.

"I wouldn't have wanted this," she says. "I let her take the spotlight, and I'm happy to sit back."

Around 10 p.m., it's time for the birthday rituals. The cake, which includes a topper modeled after one of Ashley's designer sandals, is a big hit, its frosting so delicate it looks like tissue paper. It's so pretty that people are afraid to touch it until Ashley grabs a piece of frosting and starts chomping away.

She is serenaded with "Happy Birthday" and then leads the party outside to show guests her present: a black Jeep Wrangler sporting a pink bow.

Her dad says the car replaces the family's old Jeep that broke down. They used to pull it behind their RV. Now when they use the RV they'll tow Ashley's car. Ashley cranks up the stereo and she and her friends dance around the Jeep.

Back inside, Dave Crimmins asks his daughter to dance with him. This is especially important to Ashley because it shows how much she appreciates the party.

"It's incredible that my parents are doing this," she says. "I just want to show them how much I love them and how grateful I am."

The song "Butterfly Kisses" by Bob Carlisle flows through the speakers, and the dance floor clears for Ashley and her dad. The song, about a father watching his girl grow up, is special to them.

The party is over by 11 p.m. Among other gifts, Ashley has racked up more than $115 in Starbucks gift cards.

What a memory

Afterward, she's exhausted but still excited.

The party was just her style - big, bold and beautiful. A few days before, she was thinking of just that.

"Can you imagine what my wedding will be like?" she asked her mom.

Mary Crimmins sighed and shook her head.

"I'm going to pay you to elope."