Costuming for Carnival

In the movie ?Abbott and Costello Go to Mars,? the fearless comedians play astronauts who, instead of going to the infamous Red Planet, land in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Needless to say, after walking around the French Quarter, Abbott and Costello think that they actually are on Mars.

So what?s the moral of the story? That to the uninformed, New Orleans during Carnival turns into a topsy-turvy time when people who are normally upstanding members of the community dress in drag, drink excessively and misbehave ? all in the name of a holiday with pagan roots.

Those of us who shun costume parties and Halloween are suddenly searching through our closets or raiding costume stores around town in order to participate in the madness. On Mardi Gras you almost feel out of place if you aren?t costumed.

PAGAN ROOTS

Costuming has had a long, if not checkered, history that began in the days of the Lupercalian ? a pre-Christian Roman celebration when pagan priests cross-dressed and offered themselves (as women) to celebrants (of either sex). Everyone was masked and costumed, so better to participate in basically one mass orgy. The crackdown came in the Middle Ages, when the church stepped in to curb the excesses and adapted the festival to Christianity, renaming it Cavnelevamen (which evolved into our present-day term, ?Carnival?). These days, Mardi Gras has matured into kind of a present-day version of a raucous spring break for all ages (and Mardi Gras has, in fact, become a popular spring-break destination).

Some of the most visible costumers are those who ride in parades. Starting with Comus and continuing to some of the newer krewes, costuming and masking plays an important role. Though its original intent ? to keep the members of the group ?secret? ? has fallen somewhat to the wayside in some krewes, you could risk your membership in older krewes, like Comus and Rex, if you took off your mask during the parade (though krewe members do slightly move their masks for easier drinking and smooching of bead recipients).

Another side of costuming, where it?s more of a fine art rather than a matter of disguise, is that of the famed Mardi Gras Indians, who wear some of the most elaborate outfits. For this tradition in the New Orleans black community, a chief ? the head of a ?gang? or tribe, which usually is made up of neighbors and family members ? designs and makes a brightly colored, one-of-a-kind costume (also known as a ?suit?) of intricate beading, sequins and feathers. The costumes are worn on Mardi Gras and again on the Sunday closest to St. Joseph?s Day, when the chief and his gang march in the streets. In the past, these marches were highly competitive, with rival gangs meeting and often fighting in the street. Today, when two gangs meet, it?s to check out each other?s suits.

Rivaling the Mardi Gras Indians with sheer audacity and imagination is New Orleans? gay community. The costumes you see are witty, risque and wildly creative. One of my favorite costumes was the leather-masked man walking down Bourbon Street, completely naked surfeit the loofah covering his private parts. Though the gay Carnival balls, such as Petronius, Armeinius and Lords of Leather, stage ornate tableaux, the miscellaneous gay processions on Mardi Gras in the French Quarter remains one of the most popular events for everyone ? straight or gay ? to watch.

DUCKS ON PARADE

Then there are groups of friends and families who get together on Mardi Gras every year and costume in a theme. In addition to the Society of St. Ann and the Krewe of Colleen, one of the more prominent parading groups are the Ducks of Dixieland.

Founded in 1985 by Anthony Eschmann and Phil Martin, who are still co-captains, the Ducks march in the Tucks parade (the Sunday before Mardi Gras) and on Mardi Gras. A core group of 11 or 12 people, two of whom fly in from Houston for the festivities, meet the fall before Mardi Gras to decide on a theme for each parade. With a fondness for puns and word play, some past themes have been ?People Who Forgot to Duck,? which consisted of Marie Antoinette, Abe Lincoln, Joan of Arc and Goliath. Last year?s themes were ?Wild Mallard Hunters? (a parody of the Mardi Gras Indians) during Tucks and ?Lords of Feather? (a take-off of the gay Carnival krewe Lords of Leather) on Mardi Gras.

Once the themes have been decided upon and characters assigned, everyone goes on their merry ways, not knowing what anyone else?s costume looks like until the big day. The underlying costume base is the duck, which has evolved from papier-mâché into a more flexible combination of a duck head and shoulders, body costume and duck bottoms described by Martin as ?fuzzy white diapers.?

The Ducks are an eclectic bunch of men and women: By day they?re social workers, graphic artists, schoolteachers, executives, even a member of the Coast Guard. By Carnival, they?re Ducks for a day (or two).

So where does all this costuming lead? Though some complain that there are fewer people dressing up for Mardi Gras, I still see enough people dressed as condoms and other irreverent characters (or things) that it?s hard not to be amused or awed by the holiday?s sheer imagination. But even if you don?t costume, what a way to enjoy and participate in the biggest fully licensed, city-approved party of the year. ?

 

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