1) Taking the elevator to the lobby for breakfast, I wondered if my jacket with embroidered pansies on one shoulder would call undue attention. When I walked into the breakfast room and saw the woman wearing the Vegas-sized feather headdress, I knew my jacket wouldn’t be a problem.
1a) This was before 9:00 AM.
1b) But really, Mardi Gras isn’t a dress code. It is all dress codes, simultaneously and perpetually, just as I saw in the lobby the day before.
2) I had the morning to myself, so I strolled through the Quarter at random, observing the continuing revelry, the security in place since New Year’s Day’s terrible attack, got lost (as I often do), ended up in Jackson Square (as everyone does), and was very surprised to see two Boston acquaintances. We chatted for ten minutes before moving along; what a pleasant surprise!
3) Whenever I come to New Orleans I like to have my fortune told, so I headed to Rev. Zombie’s behind the cathedral. The nice young man behind the counter saw my phone lock screen, Gustave Moreau’s Oedipus and the Sphinx, and we ended up having an interesting conversation about art. Later I directed him to Paul Mak’s The Idol, which was so influential to me in 1980.
3a) Shelby — slim, about my age, masses of dark hair — read my cards in a tiny room at the back of the shop. Her method of reading is different from mine — I was asked to draw 11 cards “because I’m nosy” — and our discussion was very interesting. What I was asking about, and how she interpreted the cards, is for me to ponder.
3b) Before I left I bought a string of cerulean-colored beads. I do love beach trinket jewelry like that!
3b.i) “Mmmm, inserting a Miranda Priestly meme after seeing the word ‘cerulean.’ Groundbreaking.”
4) Lindsay collected me about 12:30 PM, radiantly smiling and multitasking and sporting a bit of scruff, and we had a great catchup while driving all the way out to Chalmette to meet Jerri and Bill for lunch at the Fresh Catch. They, too, looked wonderful, and we all had a good catchup over good seafood.
At lunch with Jerri. As far as I’m concerned, she’s still 35.
4a) Lindsay ordered what looked like an enormous tray of crawfish. They were not sure I would want any, and in fact, I’m not really a crawfish person. (That’s not to say I don’t enjoy seafood.) But remember, dahlings — Mother was a Yankee and she was not brought up to cook like that.
4a.i) The other reason has to do with something that happened to my family one sunny Sunday when I was four years old. Mother, Daddy, Laura and I had driven somewhere southeast of home to go crawfishing (why on earth I will never understand). We had parked on the side of the road and were crawfishing in a ditch with a little bridge over it. One of the nets fell in the water, and Daddy hurried to bend down and reach for it. He got it . . . but as he did, the car keys fell from his shirt pocket into the muddy water! He tried to scoop them up with the net, but they were gone.
4a.ii) We ended up having to hitchhike back home. A nice couple stopped for us and drove us all the way back. I remember all of us having iced tea in our living room — and then being surprised that we all had to go back for the other car. Because when you’re four, you have priorities, like Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney. That was a long day. Poor Daddy must have felt awful.
5) After lunch, Lindsay pulled up to the civic center where the ball would take place, and I helped him tote in a few things. I got to witness all the hustle-bustle backstage, Lindsay introduced me to some of his friends, and then showed me the house and where I would be sitting at his tables. The excitement was mounting! It made me remember the many events I’d worked on over the last 35 years, and how happy I am just to be a guest now.
6) I took a Lyft back in to the city, feeling the heaviness of the sun and the bright big sky.
7) Back at the hotel I ironed my pleated dress shirt to the best of my ability, tried to rest, gave up, and then arrayed myself in all my black-tie finery, grateful I hadn’t forgotten anything.
En route through the Quarter.
8) I had to find a bar on North Rampart Street where the ball shuttles would depart. En route via Toulouse Street, what a pleasure to run across a tailor I follow on Insta, Natty Adams, sitting in front of his shop looking as dapper as could be in pink linen, with his dog Groucho running about. He, and his shop, and Groucho, are all quite charming, and I was quite tempted by a jacket made from a fabric designed by Duncan Grant . . .
With the impeccable Natty Adams.
9) Finally on board the shuttle, the driver and I had a bubbly little chat before more revelers boarded. And then came a cry from the middle of the bus: “Does anyone know how to tie a bow tie?!” “Why, I do!” I said, and I moved to back to give this nice man a tietorial. And that’s how I found someone to chat with all the way to the ball.
10) Since the dress code for this ball was “ballgowns and tuxedos,” everyone felt free to interpret the rules as they chose — and that is rather the spirit of Carnival, n’est ce pas? Everyone glittered in at least one place, and there were sequined bow ties and vests (and jackets), brocaded waistcoats, mandarin jackets, pink leopard skin, and some really lovely gowns.
11) When the ballroom opened I was in line for a drink, so I was perhaps in the last quarter of guests who made it in. But I was able to get a corner seat at the table in the second row, which meant I would not (I hoped) be a target for any of the performers. Instead, not one but two drag queens with mountainous wigs sat in front of me, so I had to choose my photo ops carefully.
In the ballroom!
11a) The table was laden with a gorgeous centerpiece of white flowers, fifths of vodka and whiskey, Red Bulls, cocktail plates and napkins, and trays of little sandwiches, so all our needs were met. I know a lot about place settings, and this is the first time I’d been anywhere where the table had been set with full liquor bottles. 😉
Fatsy Cline atop her sundae.
12) The theme of this year’s ball was Camp Armeinius, and all the musical numbers had something to do with camp: fat camp, band camp, hippocampus, shrimp scampi, boot camp, naval recruitment camp, conversion camp, etc. The ball captain appeared as Mrs. Peacock for a rendition of “Murder on the Dance Floor.” The interpretive dance of how ’smores got made beggars description. In the words of the late Noel Coward, “I couldn’t have liked it more!” And, as Sir Arthur Balfour famously said to Elsa Maxwell, “Allow me to thank you for the most delightful and degrading evening I have ever spent.” In short . . . a triumph for Armeinius!
Fatsy Cline and Varla Jean Merman, the latter in a campfire-colored gown.
12a) The marvelous Varla Jean Merman and Fatsy Cline kept slinging the repartee as co-hosts.
12b) All I ask is never, ever put me in a position where I have to tell drag queens I have never met what to do. That is never in my job description.
Boot camp.
13) Finalmente, the last number introduced the new king and queen of Armeinius, and we were all told to rise. And there was my Lindsay as Linda from Finance, dressed in an enormous gold gown of all the streets in Monopoly! There was a rush forward of ball guests to take photos, which almost compromised my ability to follow an instruction: to toast the queen by offering a bottle of vodka. But I managed to do it! (I had no idea what that man was asking me to do at first; I said “I am not drinking an entire bottle of vodka.” I swear I’m the village idiot sometimes.)
The receiving line forms.
13a) The emcees began announcing royalty from visiting krewes to ascend to the stage and greet the new king and queen . . . and then I heard my own name called as part of the queen’s entourage. So I got to make my obeisance to my gloriously crowned cousin — an enchanting end to an evening of delight and debauchery.
With the newly crowned queen.
14) It really was past my bedtime, so I headed directly for the shuttle bus, which left about five minutes later, not half full. Some of the revelers on board wanted the bus driver to bring us to Waffle House, which would have been fun.
15) Walking through the Quarter back to my hotel, it was clear the city would not sleep tonight! Revelry in all places, mostly people half my age or younger.
15a) Nothing looks quite so unsanitary as a forgotten feather boa on the pavements of the Quarter.
16) What an incredible experience! I know I will be feeling it tomorrow.