Costuming and indulgence goes back thousands of years and if you are literally born into the city that I was, you live your life for 2 weeks out of the year in a bizarre, technicolor world. It was my destiny to wear diapers, sequins, and a costume all at the same time. Mother was the first female Krewe Captain of an all female carnival Krewe in New Orleans during the 1950’s.  One can imagine it was more interesting for me to play with fabric scraps, glitter and feathers than toys. Mardi Gras will always be my identity.  Children who grew up in New Orleans, would spend their school years, even as toddlers, designing masks of paper. Brown paper, newspaper- you name it. Our teachers threw beads in the hallways during these 2 weeks and we walked hunched over since we had to wear them all at once. Waifs of King Cake were always in the air ready to be devoured. This sticky, ultra-sweet pastry loaded with fondant icing on top and in the shape of the letter “O” has hidden inside a tiny plastic baby. Whoever got the baby (without chipping a tooth) was obligated to purchase the next cake and beware, there will always be king cake cheaters. And so, it is safe to say, I was a chunky toddler.

The teaching of Mardi Gras traditions to all us native children, brought to our lives costumes, king cake parties, huge floats driving by our city streets with riders slinging glass beads. For me, this all stirred my young imagination. Perhaps some children lost their youthful imagination if their parents took them to The French Quarter but that was life. Well worth the many stories I could tell in my future. I was so into Mardi Gras as a child, since mother spent every year rehearsing for her ball, I created my own Mardi Gras ball inside her studio. Some innocent children had no idea they would be forced into costumes and dance to “Mr. Sandman” in front of an audience. That’s what happens when Mardi Gras is in your DNA.

To capture the magic of Mardi Gras, you must let the visuals flow and be in the moment. Eyes wide open. There is so much to absorb and your head spins around like an owl on LSD. Everything changes moment to moment. Costumes are spectacular, as natives of New Orleans work on them all year long. There are no opinions or boundary lines – men dress like women and vice versa.  Every year I experienced the greatest free show on earth and knew to throw caution to the wind while learning to be my authentic self. Wearing a costume breaks down barriers, limits dissolve and we are all one in this massive party. 

During every parade, it is a must you stretch out your arms and beg for throws (beads).  It becomes your own private loot and we know to bring big bags to fill.  It is a feeding frenzy of humans screaming for throws and the challenge is getting the riders attention so said strand of bead is headed your way. The value of the bead is just an illusion but brings out animal competitiveness to all. It’s fun and thrilling and will morph into the heaviest thing in your basement. For me, beads are never junk but treasures.  

Then there was what I call the “Backstreet Mardi Gras” that injected me with an open mind to all cultures of the world. There were French, Italian, Spanish and Caribbean people everywhere. These were low-income neighborhoods where the fantastic black culture of my city celebrated Mardi Gras. It was a concoction of Mardi Indians in full costume, Baby Dolls, Second Lines and jazz funeral music. We all got along and laughed so hard that Popeye’s Chicken would fall out our mouths while dancing. This is where I learned to dance and loved it.

Mardi Gras in The Big Easy is a multi-cultural event with all traditions and trappings.  Masks, beads, mock royalty, all while escaping personal sadness and regrets, creates 2 weeks of simply having fun. We overeat everything, we dance until our legs cramp, we laugh until our ribs hurt, we have wonderful conversations with complete strangers and no dividing cultural lines. You observe and not take anything seriously. That’s the point. Make friends with those you would never otherwise meet because I guarantee you, a stranger standing next to you in the parade is as colorblind as you will become.  That is a great thing. Purple, green and gold are the colors of my life. Mardi Gras can have a serious effect on life. It can make a human being non-judgmental, kind and ready to welcome people from all over the world. The Mardi Gras experience holds every type of art form and is a melding of the racial and social fabric of my city that makes me so proud to be a daughter of New Orleans.