I headed down to New Orleans to experience Mardi Gras this year on the invitation of a close friend. We focused on the corners of the city she knew best, which meant I didn’t explore Claiborne Avenue or see the Mardi Gras Indians or Zulu or Rex. What I got was a small but incredible window into my friend’s community.
At 8 am on Fat Tuesday, we joined a small private party in the Bywater for the pregame of the Krewe of Dystopian Paradise — before they descended into the streets for the St. Anne’s Mardi Gras day walking parade. We made our way through the Marigny, past R Bar and Frenchman, and spilled out into the wild daytime revelry of the French Quarter.
As my friend explained, the culture of joy in New Orleans does not pause — even if “the world is falling apart.” Here are my portraits of the revelers.
