It’s a funny thing about iron clad traditions. New ones manage to come along all the time.
Which is a very good thing when it comes to Carnival.
Despite its codified ways, change has always been a part of Carnival. Unfettered by preconceived ideas, new-fangled krewes, dance troupes and walking groups have emerged in recent years, embracing all manner of costume, pomp, sass and circumstance.
From ‘‘tit Rəx and Krewe of Joan of Arc (2008) to the Krewe of Red Beans, 610 Stompers and Muff-a-Lottas dance troupe (2009), to the sci fi weirdness of Chewbacchus (2011) and the femme fabulousness of the Krewe of Bosom Buddies (2013), Mardi Gras would never be the same. Which many folks agree is a good thing.
While Katrina literally turned the city of New Orleans, and Carnival, upside down with a welcome new wave of krewes, most recently the pandemic did that to the whole world. Commonly held beliefs were questioned and people made changes, sometimes big ones.
Mardi Gras as we knew it literally ceased to exist, at least for a few years. When it returned, there were new players in the mix, many reflecting a heightened awareness of what equity and diversity really looks like on the parade route. Other groups were formed with a kind of, “If not now, when?” sensibility – after all, why put off what a pandemic might squelch forever?
There has been more than a dozen new krewes formed since 2020, all with a distinct point of view, from philanthropic to hilarious. Meet a few of these newbies, all with their own story to tell.
Krewe of Dolly
For the love of Dolly, a krewe was born. Singer Dolly Parton is an Appalachian icon, a rags to riches success story whose big hair and ample assets are only eclipsed by the size of her huge, kind heart. Sarah Post, a public school speech pathologist, adores Dolly for her philanthropic nature and commitment to literacy. Post and a group of her pals, most of whom are educators, started dressing like Dolly for the Bosom Buddies parade, followed by lunch in the French Quarter. “It started just for fun, then we talked about taking it to the next level,” she recalled. “When the pandemic happened, we knew it was time.”
In 2022, the founding board set up a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt charitable organization committed to literacy and education causes. Then they opened the gates to new members, both Dollies and Kennies –as in Kenny Rogers. In 2023, the first wave of 178 members donned their wigs and rhinestones and sashayed up.
Following the Dolly creed, “Find out who you are and do it on purpose,” more than 300 Dolly lovers are in the krewe now, which will march with the King Arthur parade February 4.
All are welcome to the krewe, which will open for a limited number of new applicants in September. Dues are kept low to encourage inclusivity, with educators offered a 50-percent discount.
Whether marching in the Children’s Hospital holiday parade, holding their annual fundraiser on Dolly’s birthday (January 19) at the Louisiana Children’s Museum, or partnering with libraries and schools for programming, the krewe has one goal in mind. “What would Dolly do?” said Post. “Then we try to do it.”
The Chaissez Ladies
Forget walking a six-mile parade route. The Chaissez Ladies, a new social rest club dedicated to the lounging lifestyle, will roll February 2 for their first Mardi Gras, reclining in 20 tricked out lounge chairs during Cleopatra, which follows Oshun Uptown at 6 pm that Friday night.
The five founding board members, all creative transplants to the city, embraced Mardi Gras culture with a vengeance. A few of them, like Danielle Smith, owner of Elektra Cosmetics and Glitter Buffet, were “failed tourists.” “I just fell in love with the city and didn’t want to leave,” she said. Others came for jobs for themselves or their partners, or in Rachel Marcell’s case, settled temporarily, then met a local guy and stayed. But to a woman, the joy of Mardi Gras resonated soundly.
Captain Christina Callison traces the krewe’s genesis to the first time she saw the Laizzez Boys. “Loved the idea, but where were the women?” recalled Callison, a manager with local talent promoter Paper Doll Promotions. A casual poolside conversation – “We should do that” – grew legs, or in this case, wheels.
Although mostly women, the krewe is open to all gender expressions. Each rider names her themed lounge chair and dresses the part, with much help from Jefferson Variety. There’s May Rest, a Boho nod to Mae West, Marilyn Monroll, so very old Hollywood glam and Pomela Anderson, festooned with some 10,000 colorful pompoms.
Mister Mao chef Sophina Uong, who is famously devoted to animal prints, is riding on She She Sheena, Queen of the Jungle Vibes. Her friends can attest that the woman never sits down. So, while she is still marching on her two tired feet in her other gang, the Lucha Krewe, she’ll be lounging as a Chaissez Lady. “It’s pure luxury to ride with a daiquiri in hand and simply wave.”
Krewe Mosaïque
This year marks the first Mardi Gras for Krewe Mosaïque, a seven-krewe French Quarter walking parade that debuts January 13. As a co-founder and member of a handful of other krewes, including …and Boleyns, The hATTAS and Trashformers, Terese Aiello wanted to simplify the parading experience by eliminating aspects like an overall theme, royalty, and krewe floats. “The idea was for each sub krewe in the parade to shine on its own as a colorful tile that comes together to create a beautiful mosaic of art, culture, and fun,” she explained.
Traveling the 12-block route required for first time paraders, the parade starts at Armstrong Park and ends at the Ursulines Convent. Along the way, Krewe Mosaïque will pass by locations of cultural note, from the statue of Benito Juarez near the Cathedral to the Voodoo Museum. Members embrace DIY, with all Mosaïque ‘tiles’ featuring at least 50 percent handmade elements, with many members saluting notable historical or cultural elements. Costumes and rolling contraptions will be lit and the messages will be inclusive – no religious, political, or sexual elements.
“We want to celebrate the talent and artistry of inclusive, accessible smaller walking krewes,” said Aiello, who stopped in New Orleans on a cruise and moved to town in 2013. “We don’t want anything negative. You don’t have to know somebody to get in. Anyone can join.”
Krewe of Queer Beans and Krewe of Mung Beans
Devin De Wulf started the Bywater Krewe of Red Beans walking parade in 2009 to celebrate the ubiquitous Monday comfort dish on Lundi Gras. The parameters broadened with Dead Beans in 2017 and Feijoa in 2019. DeWulf, a former middle school history teacher from Charleston, South Carolina who moved here in 2007, expanded the krewe into a non-profit during the pandemic, raising funds and crowdsourcing to spend close to $1 million on meals delivered to frontline hospital workers during the crisis. Now with its own Beanlandia community clubhouse, the krewe is a philanthropic clearing house of sorts, finding funding for various causes.
Inclusivity is the krewe’s beating heart, from honoring culture bearers and musicians to allowing members to volunteer in lieu of paying a sliding scale of dues. This year marks the official debut of Queer Beans, honoring LBGQT+ members and their supporters. Last year, a posse of queer, bisexual, and lesbian women paraded as LEZ beans, which grew into the inclusive Queer Beans Sub-Krewe parading this year. Meanwhile, the burgeoning Krewe of Mung Beans is a long overdue spotlight on the city’s strong Vietnamese and Asian population, which is underrepresented in Mardi Gras tradition.
“When I started, I didn’t think it through too much, just that I wanted a bean parade,” he recalled. “Over the years, I started to understand that this is a potential vehicle for good.” Reflecting the city’s true diversity, which is so much more than Black and white, is the mission. “The magic of New Orleans is that it’s a city so very traditional about the culture,” he said. “But it’s also a place that allows for new traditions and expressions, and that’s really special because not a lot of places are like that.”
Krewe of Themis
Kimya Holmes had been a Nyx float lieutenant for seven years, but after a controversial 2020, she decided to end her association with the krewe. Just days after she left, many former members were already clamoring for a new kind of organization.
Although she never imagined starting a Mardi Gras krewe, she and a few friends founded the Krewe of Themis, which marches in partnership with the Krewe of Freret. “People missed the connections and comaraderies we had, so we said, “Why not? Let’s do it.” The krewe has grown to 500 members, many of whom will ride in the parade February 3.
The krewe’s name Themis speaks volumes, said Holmes, an attorney and a presiding judge in the city’s criminal court. Themis is an ancient Greek goddess of Justice. “We didn’t want to just be a parading organization. We wanted to be focused on social justice and our community. One of our hashtags is #morethanmardigras.”
Led by a 12-member board of professional women, the krewe has had its growing pains, said Holmes. “We are all strong and independent women. But whenever we have differences of opinion, we listen to each other. No one person is Themis. We make our decisions collectively. This is not a dictatorship.”
A Slew of New Krewes on the West Bank
This year marks a banner year for new and newish krewes parading on the West Bank.
Although the Mystic Krewe of Music rolls for the first time in Marrero February 5, this is not founding Captain Henry Smith’s first rodeo. Smith was long associated with several Orleans parish krewes, acting in roles including float lieutenant, grand marshal and captain. “I learned a lot, but I wanted to bring that to the West Bank, which is my home,” said the musician, who plays organ and keyboards. Conceived in 2022, the krewe is up to 20 floats and close to 300 riders, with all welcome. This year’s theme, “Music Around the World” brings the sounds of hip-hop, rap, Latin and gospel to the parade route, which starts at 6 p.m. on Lapalco Boulevard and ends around the intersection of the Westbank Expressway and Barataria Boulevard, the same route through Marrero as the Culinary Queens and Nandi.
The longtime musician, who plays at church services as well as Jazz Fest, believes that since New Orleans is a city known for a variety of music, a krewe dedicated to that diversity is a perfect fit. His goal was always to give back through the nonprofit krewe to the local community. Whether members of the royal court are helping with blanket drives at a local dialysis center, feeding folks under the bridge or learning social skills and etiquette with the help of krewe mentoring, the mission is clear. “We’re going to show love, even if we don’t know you,” said Smith.
And there’s more. The Krewe of Caerus is dedicated to the Greek god of opportunity and luck, a family affair, where men, women and kids over the age of 13 ride together. The Magical Krewe of MadHatters, which first rolled in 2020 with a perennial Alice in Wonderland theme, spotlights multiple live bands along its 34-float parade, from Vince Vance and the Valiants to Amanda Shaw. Akasia Lee-Nicholas founded the Culinary Queens of New Orleans in 2022 to honor women in the food and beverage industry. Lee-Nicholas has a restaurant called Akasia’s Café on the West Bank Expressway.
Celebrating a Historic River Across the Lake
Although Covington is home to some of the oldest Carnival krewes in St. Tammany Parish, there’s something new happening this year with the rolling of a krewe newly named for a famous river.
Krewe of Bogue Falaya is the new name for the family friendly Carnival in Covington formed in 2017. The new name recognized the town’s iconic river and the role it played to the indigenous people of the area. Its first grand marshal is educator, storyteller and musician Grayhawk Perkins, one of the last speakers of Mobilian, an ancient trade language once used by the indigenous peoples of the Gulf South. The parade rolls on Mardi Gras, stepping off in front of the St. Tammany Parish Justice Center on Columbia Street.
The scenic Bogue Falaya (pronounced BO-guh fa-LY-uh), once a primary fishing and trade waterway for indigenous peoples, is a slow-flowing river that connects the heart of the town to the Abita and Tchefuncte rivers, out to Lake Pontchartrain. The term is derived from the Choctaw words bogu, (bayou, stream or waterway) and falaya (long), and it is an embodiment of both reflection and movement, capturing both the past and the future.
