ROUSES.COM
31
As the parade turns down Jackson Avenue, I peel off and prowl
the crosstown on my way to the Faubourg Marigney to catch the
informal confluence of the informal “costume krewes” as they
make their way from the Bywater into the French Quarter. The
Society of St. Anne and the smaller Society of St. Cecilia draw
throngs of creative costumers eager to show off this year’s creations.
There are group costumes (green toy army men, plantation ladies
in astonishing drag, Hubig’s Pie people, seven Wonder Women in
a row), rolling drum circles, belly dancer patrols, gaggles of space
aliens, 18th century French noblemen, steampunk superheroes,
Greek gods and members of the aspiring Burlesque Nation.
Spend a few hours shooting portraits outside the R Bar and you’ll
be spoiled for a lifetime. Happy people who’ve toiled over today’s
new persona for months putting it all on display during one magical
afternoon. Anything goes, and nine times out of ten “anything”
involves body paint, gender swapping and a fluorescent wig from
Fifi Mahoney’s. Surrounded by their people and with a drink in
hand, these people glow with joy and love the camera.
This part of the day involves running back and forth across
Elysian Fields as you hear drums or singing, catching the largely
unorganized mob as they make their way across Esplanade to join
other theatrical forces in the French Quarter. Some head over early
to catch the Bourbon Street Awards Show, the season’s ultimate
gay Mardi Gras showcase for drag performers, whose dresses are
marvels of archtecture as well as dramatic costuming. Latecomers
who miss the show itself (at noon sharp, early for many at Mardi
Gras) can catch the aftermath as adoring fans pose for pictures with
the winners.
Early afternoon usually means a trip into the Treme for a stint at
Sylvester Francis’ Backstreet Cultural Museum, which acts as a
gathering point for an amazing variety of groups. The North Side
Skull and Bones gang makes an after-lunch appearance after their
annual pre-dawn campaign to scare the kids straight and remind
adults of approaching mortality. Stragglers from the St. Anne
parade dance in the streets, with Sylvester providing DJ tunes until
his special guest stars appear. Taking a break from appearances
under the nearby Claiborne overpass, gangs of Mardi Gras Indians
stop by to pay their respects for Sylvester’s cultural preservation
work and to stand on the museum’s steps to show off their intricate
handiwork. The afternoon’s pace slows for a little rest, then picks up
as brass bands show up for a few funky tunes. Rubbing their feet
with beers in hand, exhausted revelers rest for a spell on the steps of
St. Augustine Catholic church.
And then, on the way back to the car, I do one more stop — at the
full-costumed finale that congregates on Frenchmen Street. As the
day starts to dim, the block party provides a last-gasp of Carnival
fever. It’s a last chance to show off this year’s costumes and catch a
free-form dance to live drumming in the streets. One more chance
to display the glitter and paint, to catch friends in all their Mardi
Gras finery. And, of course, to have one more chance to appreciate
the beauty of the day and the joy of our magical city.
