Mardi Gras Magic 💜💚💛

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Today is Fat Tuesday—the grand finale of Mardi Gras in New Orleans, the last day of a weeks-long celebration before Lent begins tomorrow on Ash Wednesday. And for me, Mardi Gras isn’t just a holiday; it runs deep in my soul.

Growing Up in a Mardi Gras Family

My mom was born and raised in New Orleans, one of ten kids in a big, bustling family that made their home in Uptown. So from the time I was little, Mardi Gras wasn’t just something we saw pictures of—it was something we lived. I remember being hoisted onto my dad’s shoulders, reaching for beads as the floats rolled by, dazzled by the colors, the music, the magic of it all.

I remember the huge Mardi Gras party my grandparents threw every year on Thoth Sunday—the Sunday before Fat Tuesday. After the parade, family and friends would flood their home, filling the backyard with dancing and music. My Uncle Billy’s band would play, the smell of crawfish and jambalaya filled the air, and it was a true New Orleans celebration!

As a young girl (maybe 8), our family rode together on a float in the truck parade that rolls after Rex on Mardi Gras day—just everyday people, families, and groups who put together their own floats on big trucks, throwing beads and trinkets to the crowd. One year, my Aunt Leigh Ann—who is the most creative person!—led our float’s build, painting a huge bayou scene. I wish I had pictures of it! We were all dressed as crabs or frogs. I forget which I was, but I do remember the pure joy of being part of the parade instead of just watching it.

College Years and New Traditions

When I went to Tulane for college in New Orleans, Mardi Gras became an even deeper part of my life. My family has what I call a “half-generation,” meaning while I was in college, many of my cousins were just toddlers. So my friend Jenny and I would spend the day on the parade route with them, helping them catch beads from the top of parade ladders—those six-foot ladders with wooden seats attached to the top, built so kids can see over the crowds and catch more beads.

My aunts and uncles would bring a black iron pot and a grill and set up tables for food right there on the route—feeding family and friends while the sounds of floats and marching bands rolled by. When my cousins were super young, my uncle even had a truck with a port-o-potty parked right next to the route. Sounds sketch, but it came in clutch for parade time! IYKYK.

For those who have never experienced Mardi Gras outside of what’s shown on TV, let me tell you—it’s not just Bourbon Street and beads-for-flashing. Sure, the French Quarter has its own wild energy, but Uptown Mardi Gras is pure magic. It’s creativity, family, tradition, and joy. It’s like the world’s biggest tailgate and completely family-friendly. Kids throw footballs in the street between parades, people share food and drinks with strangers-turned-friends, and the whole thing feels like one giant celebration of life.

There’s nothing like standing on the parade route, the beat of a drumline pounding in your chest, catching a glimpse of a beautifully designed float coming down St. Charles Avenue. The energy is electric. And me? I never stop moving. Brass bands and drumlines are like fuel in my veins—I have to dance!

Passing It Down to the Next Generation

My heart is in New Orleans today. It makes me a little sad that we’re not there this year, but most years, we bring our kids, and I love watching them experience the same magic I did. Since my kids were babies, we’ve met up with friends who live there and whose kids are the same ages, creating new traditions, sharing the excitement of parades, and watching them grow out of their parade ladders.

At least this past weekend, we got to celebrate in our own way with the Oak Cliff Mardi Gras Parade and Dash for the Beads. As always, the Sanfords went all in on our Mardi Gras flair.

A Tribute to My Mom & Rambeaux

And today, my heart is also with my mom. She still lives in New Orleans, and yesterday, she lost her sweet dog Rambeaux (a tiny Toto dog with a big ‘ole name!). It breaks my heart for her, but I hope that the joy and music of Mardi Gras, the city she calls home, brings her some comfort today. I hope she finds a spot along the parade route, hears the sound of a marching band, and feels even a little bit of peace.

So today, I’ll be blasting brass music, wearing all the Mardi Gras colors, and celebrating from afar.

Happy Mardi Gras, y’all. Throw me something, sissstttaaaa!