Posts Tagged ‘Mardi Gras’

Ah, the best of times, the worst of times: Mardi Gras.

Actually, that’s not really fair to Mardi Gras; my problem wasn’t with the holiday, it was me not being able to get out of my own head and just go with it. Try as I might, I couldn’t quite get off the misery merry-go-round* that I’ve been on since deciding to close the business.

Even so, the good outweighed the bad by a long shot, most importantly because Charlie’s oldest daughter came down for a few days and they got to hang out. It was a first, and she discovered that even the most dignified big-time New York designer will jump around for some Muses schwag:

Duty called, and Caitlin had to go home on Sunday, but she got to see a bunch of the big parades and hopefully she’ll be back with her sisters in tow in the next year or two, and then we’ll get to drag them along on a float, looking goofy with the rest of us:

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*my mental carousel horse goes up and it’s all “Wow, I get my house back, I’m going to write, yay!”, but then inevitably the horsey comes down and it becomes “failure failure failure.” Apologies to anyone who got to deal with my intermittent mopishness: blech.

And along came Rex. I double checked- the box of slides was marked 1956, but the Krewe of Rex says this was their theme in ’54.

One of the floats from that group of photos, taken on Canal Street- The Gypsy Caravan. I’ve also included some closeups of the crowd.

Click for larger…

I keep an eye out for older amateur photos of New Orleans, and recently picked up a collection of slides from Mardi Gras 1956 that is half parades and half crowd participation.

I love these…both innocent and what passed for racy at the time. The kid who jumped in beside them, the one watching in awe, the older guy with the camera on the right- love the accidental composition.

Click for bigger…

So here we are again, the roses are blooming and I’m wondering how long it’ll last. Charlie keeps reminding me that our climate is just not kind to roses, but I’m gonna keep trying a little while longer. After all, banging my head on the wall is one of my favorite activities.

Anyway, here’s a new one, Mardi Gras. I was actually shopping for a replacement for Beloved (may she rest in peace) and decided I had to give this one a chance based on the name alone.

It’s really luminous, and so far a fast grower, so we’ll see how she fares.

Life in NOLA contains many wonderful things, but the roaches ain’t one of ‘em.

We’ve got great big 4 inch suckers that fly, and they’re out and about now. Trust me, you haven’t lived until the bug you’re approaching with a rolled up newspaper flies at your face and you run off screaming like a loon. Good times.

So what else is there to do but celebrate this lovely local problem with its own bead? I want to jump in the shower just looking at these. But clearly somebody put some thought into them- even the beads in between the roaches are…skeevy.

March 16th was Super Sunday, and back in its usual spot- last year it got moved out because of weather issues- specifically, it was really windy, and once you’ve gotten a look at those costumes you know that a windy day would not be your friend.

So I called Michelle to see if she wanted to go see the spectacle with me, and much to my surprise, Ms. NOLA had never been, so off we went.

I still have enough Yankee in me to think, “Ok, the schedule says it starts at 11, so if we’re there about 20 minutes early…”

Things, naturally, didn’t even start cranking up until about noon. Until then, we wandered around the neighborhood and had a generally excellent time even before the Indians got going.

We were at the intersection of Washington and Lasalle, where the Uptown tribes gather before marching out. The Indians behaved like the royalty they are. They preened and posed happily without actually acknowledging any of the peasantry.

There were two men in a rental car sitting at the corner – the only other people there before us- one an Englishman, the other Italian, and unsure about whether they were welcome. We explained that the tribes spend all year making these costumes by hand, and they want as many people as possible to appreciate it.

Later in the afternoon we saw them again, and they were amazed at the scene, interested but still uncomfortable. They had many questions they’d like to ask a local, but weren’t ready to talk to the locals from this decidedly lower-income neighborhood. We seemed comparatively safe, I guess, and their questions were interesting- a contrast between not only Europe and the US but the US and New Orleans.

We wandered off again and enjoyed the gorgeous day along with a fair number of our neighbors.

Lots more photos in a slideshow after the jump:
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After the crazy night before, it was off to Amelia Street, where Alison works as a sitter over Mardi Gras. Most of her charges were riding in Tucks (which follows Iris), so she had some free time to hang out with her cousins.

The twins are 8- Marisa is dark haired and normally the shy one, Nadia the lighter haired and bold as brass tacks.

Marisa held her own, though- she really loved it, and loved that hat with all the balls. Lots of compliments came her way, as they did for Alison when she first wore the hat a couple of years ago. She tried out the ladder, being up at eye level worked out well, and gave her dad and my brother’s shoulders a rest.

Nadia opted for the freedom of the street, picking out her target, waving and jumping, and both girls made out like bandits.

I haven’t had a kid kid at Mardi Gras in years- Alison’s worked the entirety of Carnival the last two years, so I haven’t seen her at all, even though she hardly qualifies as a kid anymore.

But the girls were excited to find out that we have a Costume Box- I think it’s mandatory that if you live in New Orleans, you have a place where all the odds and ends go so that the next time you have go make something out of nothing (you’d be surprised how often that is), you’ve got a base to start with.

Marisa glommed onto this hat- and it is quite the hat- and wore it to the parades. Alison stole it back briefly, and I sighed wistfully, thinking of when she wore it to try and catch the float riders’ eye and snag the best beads.

I had to look for evidence, and there it was.

2005:

2008:

Muses was a little rough this year- the parade was put off because of bad weather on Thursday. Tacked onto the end of Friday, they got going late and suffered a bunch of delays.

We packed it in around 11:30 so the little ones would have some rest before getting up for Tucks in the morning. If you would’ve told me I was going to leave before the last shoe passed, I’d have called you a liar.

But add a gallon of Charlie’s pomegranate margaritas over several hours with no dinner beforehand, add some tired kids, and sometimes you do the previously unimaginable.