It's Bastille Day in New Orleans, or rather 'Fête de la Fédération'. For some reason my boyfriend has been looking forward to Bastille Day for like 10 months, since before we even knew we were moving down here. So it is a meritorious coincidence that we are here in costume in the middle of the maelstrom of Bastille Day, French Quarter style, on this Saturday night. 
First I must tell you about our outfits because they were ridiculous. Bastille Day commemorates the day that the people rose up and actually stormed the Bastille in order to have ammunition to defend themselves from Louis XVI's Royal Military. Parisians really knew how to do things in large numbers back then. Their success brought about the Declaration of Rights of Man and of the Citizen and the end to feudalism. I searched images of paintings of the 'storming' and all I could really find was an image of a topless woman with an off white sheet draped around her wielding a firearm and a flag of France. The other kinda looked like Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman with a du-rag. Otherwise, it was peasant wear, done. We went and bought fabric and I got a brown color for my skirt, couldn't figure out a top, and finally ended up with this very cave womanish get up. We had the brilliant idea for my boyfriend to wear a toga and he picked out fabric with the Saints logo on it. I know. So our outfits ended in his time traveler Saints toga and me in the worst looking brown skirt ever, a cheetah shirt, and some strange leopard fur Russian looking hat thing, and a brilliant faux silk red sash. |
| The coolest outfit ever |
We ended up storming a building on Frenchman
Street, traveling around with the parade dancing, singing, stopping every couple blocks to dance and sing some more, traveling along Decatur and up the stairs to the balcony overlook of Jackson Square for the finale.
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