I came to New Orleans expecting something different. I expected a new city in a new part of the country to have a different feel from that which I am accustomed. Maybe the locals would talk differently, dress differently, and act differently. What I did not expect, but have noticed time and again, is the level of pride and outpouring of love that the citizens of New Orleans have for this city. People nationwide have hometown pride and large cities everywhere capture the hearts of their inhabitants, but the natives to this city seem different to me. New Orleanians love their home – their neighborhoods, their accents, their food, their city. In observing this I have realized that New Orleans is far from being just a dot on a map somewhere in the state of Louisiana; it is a way of life and state of mind that has to be experienced to be fully understood. The city, founded in 1718 on the banks of the Mississippi River, grew rapidly with the influence of Americans, French, and Creole French cultures. New Orleans is in many ways like its own little city-state, part of the United States but at the same time so different from everywhere else that it can feel like you have stepped into a different world as easily as crossing the causeway over Lake Pontchartrain. Home to Mardi Gras and more parades than you can count, jazz music, streetcars and neutral grounds, heat and humidity, crawfish, muffulettas and po’boys, beignets and chicory coffee, Yats, and the French Quarter, there are so many things that are so unique and so embedded into New Orleans and its people that are so foreign to everywhere else in America. Few American cities have become so fixed in the public mind that tourists and natives alike have very specific ideas of how New Orleans should taste, smell, sound, look, and behave.
The longer I have been in this unconventional old city, the more colorful shotgun houses and Creole cottages I passed by, the more eccentric characters I met, the more I realized that this place was like no other. It was so intriguing to see this day-to-day flow of the city that I wanted to uncover my own personal understanding of New Orleans. I wanted to understand the people who call this city home and what makes them love this place so much. It was obvious that the natives of this city felt an emotional connection to New Orleans, but I didn’t know why it was so important as a place. New Orleans has a whole collection of symbols, lingo, and traditions and I wanted to understand all the mysterious, catchy phrases that I kept seeing around the city. I thought that once I understood one of these things, the others would follow, that somehow deciphering one piece of the city would give me the key to deeper understanding of life here.
As I searched for an easy answer to a convoluted bundle of questions I realized that it was not going to be as simple, straightforward task. The New Orleans culture is hard to define in single words or catchy phrases or appealing emblems. To an outsider the culture is limited to the spicy food, the strong drinks, and the never-ending party, and the French Quarter where all of these things supposedly happen. This New Orleans culture that tourists perceive is a watered down and hyped up version of the real thing. Tourists may see parades, but they may never know about the more un-choreographed second-line parades. Tourists may buy and wear the colorful, iridescent beads sold in the souvenir shops, but they may never know about the Mardi Gras Krewes and the dozens of Carnival Parades that fill the days and nights between January 6 and Ash Wednesday. Tourists may find the New Orleans dish of red beans and rice, but they may never know that this traditional food was served on Mondays because that was “wash day” and a meal was needed that could cook unattended all day using the soup bones from Sunday dinner. Even the French Quarter, the main tourist destination people visit to catch a glimpse of New Orleans, is nothing but the three dimensional shell and ornate façade of a real place that used to exist within the narrow, gridded streets. The two-storied buildings with their iconic wrought iron balconies dripping in tropical greenery are nostalgic, but the businesses below are designed for the tourist trade. People still call the French Quarter home. It is still a living, breathing part of New Orleans. But in the eyes of tourists the appeal is in hoping to experience a part of history with a touch of fantasy of what it must have been like in its prime, perhaps a time and lifestyle only vaguely remembered by older generations.
So much of the true identity of New Orleans is masked behind tourism and what visitors expect their experience to be like in The Big Easy (and by the way, I have never once heard a local call New Orleans by this nickname). The culinary traditions of Creole and Cajun food can give you a taste for the city, the sound of jazz musicians and impromptu parades can give you a voice to the city, the stale odor of Bourbon Street can give you an associative smell to the city - but part of what defines New Orleans culture is captured only in the day to day and permeates through everything else. The houses, the neighborhoods, and the easy-going way of life are the things that give a heartbeat to New Orleans. New Orleans is like a favorite old quilt; well-worn and faded, patched and mended. Each piece of the quilt tells a story from the past, a certain history that has been brought into the present. The quilt pieces all fit together, the mismatched swatches of cloth together form a beautiful whole. The seams of adjacencies are sometimes precise and rigid, other times it takes a second glance to see where one piece ends and the other begins. The city is made up entirely from these slapdash patterned pieces. Each piece of this quilt has its own pattern, and this pattern is the distinct vibe of each neighborhood, the local dialects that vary from street corner to street corner, the favorite bowls of gumbo and hole in the wall bars.
Being from New Orleans is like being a member of a secret members-only club, a friendly group to outsiders, but whose foundation is so built on history and tradition it is hard for someone on the outside to fully become integrated as a full-fledged member. As impossible as it may seem to break through the invisible shield into understanding the magic of the real New Orleans, so much of the New Orleans spirit is accessible to anyone. The city’s laissez-faire demeanor can make newcomers feel like they truly belong here after only seeing a small slice of life. No matter where you are visiting from or how long you are staying, how badly you may mispronounce the names of the streets, how perplexed you may look the first time someone asks if you want your sandwich dressed, New Orleans welcomes you just like an old friend. Maybe this is because so many families have been here for many generations, living in the same neighborhoods and attending the same schools and growing up together. In many ways being from New Orleans is like being from a very small town and it is hard to meet a stranger. In New Orleans’ case, these very small towns are the neighborhoods of the city.
The comparison between New Orleans to a Caribbean city comes up a lot, especially in recent talks of rebuilding after the storm. Andres Duany, a contributor to Metropolis Magazine, described the city of New Orleans as being “not among the most haphazard, poorest, or misgoverned American cities, but rather the most organized, wealthiest, cleanest and competently governed of the Caribbean cities.” (Duany 2007). Many of the traditions and much of the culture comes from this leisurely way of life most often attributed to a Caribbean lifestyle. Historically, New Orleanians had “time to create the fabulously complex Creole dishes that simmer forever…time to practice and listen to music…time to make costumes and to parade…time to spend all day marking the passing of friends.” (Duany 2007). This lifestyle allowed a complex culture to form that may otherwise have not. When locals realize you are not from New Orleans, many go out of their way to extend a heartfelt welcome to their city. They want to know if you like it here and if you have visited their city before. They want to make sure you have been to all of their New Orleans favorites and local must-sees and dos. They have a sincere love for this city and want you to experience the same New Orleans that they have grown to know and cherish.
However, as ready as the locals are to share their city with newcomers and tourists, there is also a layer of mystique that is ingrained into the very core of this city and the people who live here. I suppose that like any new place, there are localisms that a newcomer may not “get” at first. The bumper stickers of black boxes with white x’s inside, the cryptic words Be a new orleanian. Wherever you are, the fondness towards the fleur-de-lis are all examples of these localisms. To me it is like catching a glimpse into a secret society whose members are so loyal and so allegiant to something that I can only barely begin to understand, let alone understand why they would be. These words and glyphs place an identity onto this city and its residents, and although I may not be aware of the whole background story I see what a powerful presence these symbols have on the present and future of New Orleans. It is like wearing a home team jersey on game day and seeking out other fans; New Orleanians want to claim their city and its residents as part of their own family or dearest friends. Wearing or displaying these symbols give a sense of belonging to both the person wearing the badge of allegiance and to those who may see it and be able to relate; it is a way to identify yourself within a city and region as both an individual and part of something much larger than yourself. Whatever it is, wherever it stems from, these badges of allegiance are worn so proudly, like the figurative heart on your sleeve, and they are what makes New Orleans so different from anywhere else.
These proclamations of local pride in the form of symbols and phrases were one of the first things I noticed upon arrival in my new city. It was late August and close to the two year anniversary of Katrina and the levee failure, and I thought that this outpouring of local pride might have something to do with remembrance. But as I became more immersed in the quirks and tics of New Orleans and learned more about this city than I could have in just a short vacation, I realized that allegiance to this city is not solely a result of the aftermath. The way that New Orleanians latch onto these localisms is just a part of who they are; it is part of declaring identity and linking themselves to the place they call home. New Orleans has always been a unique city, and the people who live here have always known what a special place this city is.
In the same way that local dialect, neighborhood identity, and regional cooking define New Orleanians, there are other symbols of this city that people are apt to take on as a mascot of sorts. The X, the fleur-de-lis, the shape of the crescent, the colors of Mardi Gras, the alligator…all have their roots deep into this unique culture and place. The bumper sticker that first caught my attention is an example of how this X symbol was thrust upon New Orleanians, and how many have chosen to hold onto these marks of catastrophe by turning them into artwork, T-shirts, even tattoos. (The Associated Press 2006). There are fleur-de-lis charms and flags, signs declaring that New Orleans is still home and they will rebuild, and purple, gold, and green are still the New Orleans colors of choice.
The X saw recent notoriety as a spray-painted marking used by Katrina rescue workers. Devised as a way to track which houses and buildings had been checked for occupants and hazardous material after the storm, many have remained prominently displayed on New Orleans homes and businesses. The marks vary in size, color, and location, but they have become a national icon of New Orleans and the people who call this place home. Bywater seems to have kept the most of these now weather worn symbols on reoccupied homes. Reoccupied homes in neighborhoods like Broadmoor and Lakeview have fewer of these marks remaining. Maybe it’s due to the bohemian inclination of Bywater neighborhood towards the offbeat that more Xs have stayed here, the colorful tattoos blend into the colorful houses. At the corner of Montegut and Chartres, there is a home with an iron replica of the existing X placed over the original spray-painted marking. In this instance, a bold statement was made by its occupant to never let the memory fade away. For them to add this X to their collection of New Orleanian emblems is a far cry from houses elsewhere that would rather have a contrasting paint blob than hold onto this symbol of tragedy.
The fleur-de-lis is another one of these iconic symbols that has historically been closely associated with New Orleans. It was originally an emblem from the Court of Louis XIV but now has more of an emotional connection to New Orleans. Fleur-de-lis is a French phrase meaning, “flower of the lily.” In connection with New Orleans, it was adopted during the French occupation of Louisiana from 1682-1762 and has been used ever since. More recently, the fleur-de-lis has been the emblem of the New Orleans Saints football team and worn on the player’s helmets and by many fans. But you don’t have to be a Saints fan to wear this symbol proudly; the fleur-de-lis is used repeatedly with no connection to the team emblem. I think that because the fleur-de-lis was a symbol long used in New Orleans art and architecture and even part of the official flag, it became a symbol of hope for the future of this rebuilding this city.
The colors of Mardi Gras are also important in defining symbols of New Orleans. The official colors for Mardi Gras are purple, green, and gold. These colors were chosen in 1872; purple representing justice, green standing for faith, and gold signifying power. Even outside of the Carnival Season, these three colors hold value to New Orleanians. Everything from new signs promoting rebuilding to old storefront signage used these traditional colors. It is even said that the colors of Mardi Gras influenced the choice of school colors for Louisiana State University and Tulane University. According to local legend, when LSU was deciding on its school colors for a game against Tulane, the stores in New Orleans had stocked up on Mardi Gras colored fabrics for the upcoming Carnival Season. LSU chose the colors purple and gold, and Tulane purchased the only remaining color. Whether this is true or just a good story, it is interesting that these colors are so associated with Mardi Gras that this seems like a very convincing and logical explanation.
The source for a lot of the more recently asserted badges of allegiance is a local t-shirt company, Dirty Coast. The two young owners are local entrepreneurs that wanted to put New Orleans in the national spotlight. They wanted people that lived elsewhere to realize, and remind the people that live here, that New Orleanians have a different attitude about their city. Their mission is to give people a way to say this is why I love New Orleans. This is why I live here and will continue to live here. The grassroots business first began to gain recognition as a way for New Orleanians living in other places after the storm to declare pride and place to a home they were far away from. It is a small company to say the least, and the shirts are screen-printed to order just down the street from their new storefront. These T-shirts have become known for their combination of self-effacing humor and hometown pride. Others are simple declarations of pride and place. Still others are riddled with inside jokes that only New Orleanians can share. (Stay Local 2006).
Dirty Coast created the tagline, Be a New Orleanian. Wherever you are. This was another localism I first noticed that I wanted to understand beyond just reading the words. These stickers are all over the country now; more than 200,000 have left the hands of Dirty Coast. In an email message, the creator explains it as being a state of mind as well as a badge of pride. (Haney 2007). Wherever you are in the world, be a New Orleanian. It means different things to different people, but that is what makes it so appealing. I somewhat disappointed in this explanation; I wanted something more, but even though the answer is simple the words remain just as compelling. It answers the question of meaning, but leads to more questions about how can you “be” a New Orleanian.
The King Alligator is a modern symbol of the city that seems to encompass just as much portrayal of local identity than the more established symbols. The X becoming a symbol for “X marks the NOLA” and signifying home I can understand. The fleur-de-lis was so long ago given as the symbol for New Orleans; of course it would remain as one. The catchy t-shirt phrases and bumper stickers have a trendy appeal for a place that you know so well, all the quirks you have come to love. The one symbol that seems to speak so clearly of New Orleans and yet is whimsically vague is the King Gator, designed for t-shirts and stationery by a local designer, Alexa Pulitzer. Alligators ruled the swampy bayou and the area now known as New Orleans long before the Europeans claimed it, but how has an image of an alligator wearing an elegant crown of royalty captured the creative spirit of so many looking for a way to wear their badge of allegiance for New Orleans? And yet it has; it is a testimony to the sub-tropical landscape and the pervasiveness of carnival’s royal tinge. (NOCVB 2006).
People have a tendency to associate their own mental images and ideas with different places. It is a way to give yourself a definition to an unknown or to create a snapshot of a memory so you can visit a place time and again. This type of word and image association comes naturally when you think about a city as unique as New Orleans. People all over America, all over the world, have a vivid idea of what this city looks like and feels like even if it is a place unvisited and thousands of miles away.
Being from a small town hundreds of miles from New Orleans, my own associations of “place” and therefore symbols of New Orleans were based on hearsay and pictures. I immediately thought of Mardi Gras and the wild times I had heard of happening in the French Quarter. I pulled images from my mind from media coverage after the levees broke and the city was under water. I thought of the taste of jambalaya and the sounds of jazz music, the fleur-de-lis charm someone had given me as a souvenir. Living in New Orleans, I was confronted with all of these preconceived notions about what makes this city “who” it is and what makes someone a true New Orleanian. I began to notice more intricate details, which only led me to wanting to know more.
Every place has its own characteristics; its personal symbols and ways of representing their past that have made their way into the life and texture of the present. Local symbols unite the people that live there and allow the place to have its own reality that distinguishes it from all other places. In New Orleans, these symbols have a stronger presence. They are more accentuated and acknowledged. They are a little more foreign, a little more veiled beneath a layer of mystery simply because they are unlike anything you would find in American cities elsewhere. They all gather together and whisper, You are in New Orleans and there is no place like this. The natives of New Orleans have an understanding of their city that is unmatched in other parts of the country. After living here and seeing this city from the eyes of a local (albeit transient) rather than the eyes of a visitor, I realize how unique and unreplicable, how precious this city really is.
Works Cited
Duany, Andres. “Restoring the Real New Orleans.” Metropolis Magazine (February 2007). http://metropolismag.com. (Accessed November 4, 2007).
Haney, Blake. E-mail message to author, November 13, 2007.
NBC Weather Plus Network LLC. The Associated Press. “Remembering Katrina.” (August 28, 2007) http://weatherplus.com/weathernews. (Accessed November 10, 2007.)
New Orleans Metropolitan Convention and Visitors Bureau. http://www.neworleanscvb.com (2006). (Accessed November 21, 2007).
The Urban Conservancy. Stay Local! “Success Stories: On Being New Orleanian.” December 7, 2006. http://staylocal.org. (Accessed November 21, 2007).
New Orleans Metropolitan Convention and Visitors Bureau. http://www.neworleanscvb.com (2006). (Accessed November 21, 2007).
The longer I have been in this unconventional old city, the more colorful shotgun houses and Creole cottages I passed by, the more eccentric characters I met, the more I realized that this place was like no other. It was so intriguing to see this day-to-day flow of the city that I wanted to uncover my own personal understanding of New Orleans. I wanted to understand the people who call this city home and what makes them love this place so much. It was obvious that the natives of this city felt an emotional connection to New Orleans, but I didn’t know why it was so important as a place. New Orleans has a whole collection of symbols, lingo, and traditions and I wanted to understand all the mysterious, catchy phrases that I kept seeing around the city. I thought that once I understood one of these things, the others would follow, that somehow deciphering one piece of the city would give me the key to deeper understanding of life here.
As I searched for an easy answer to a convoluted bundle of questions I realized that it was not going to be as simple, straightforward task. The New Orleans culture is hard to define in single words or catchy phrases or appealing emblems. To an outsider the culture is limited to the spicy food, the strong drinks, and the never-ending party, and the French Quarter where all of these things supposedly happen. This New Orleans culture that tourists perceive is a watered down and hyped up version of the real thing. Tourists may see parades, but they may never know about the more un-choreographed second-line parades. Tourists may buy and wear the colorful, iridescent beads sold in the souvenir shops, but they may never know about the Mardi Gras Krewes and the dozens of Carnival Parades that fill the days and nights between January 6 and Ash Wednesday. Tourists may find the New Orleans dish of red beans and rice, but they may never know that this traditional food was served on Mondays because that was “wash day” and a meal was needed that could cook unattended all day using the soup bones from Sunday dinner. Even the French Quarter, the main tourist destination people visit to catch a glimpse of New Orleans, is nothing but the three dimensional shell and ornate façade of a real place that used to exist within the narrow, gridded streets. The two-storied buildings with their iconic wrought iron balconies dripping in tropical greenery are nostalgic, but the businesses below are designed for the tourist trade. People still call the French Quarter home. It is still a living, breathing part of New Orleans. But in the eyes of tourists the appeal is in hoping to experience a part of history with a touch of fantasy of what it must have been like in its prime, perhaps a time and lifestyle only vaguely remembered by older generations.
So much of the true identity of New Orleans is masked behind tourism and what visitors expect their experience to be like in The Big Easy (and by the way, I have never once heard a local call New Orleans by this nickname). The culinary traditions of Creole and Cajun food can give you a taste for the city, the sound of jazz musicians and impromptu parades can give you a voice to the city, the stale odor of Bourbon Street can give you an associative smell to the city - but part of what defines New Orleans culture is captured only in the day to day and permeates through everything else. The houses, the neighborhoods, and the easy-going way of life are the things that give a heartbeat to New Orleans. New Orleans is like a favorite old quilt; well-worn and faded, patched and mended. Each piece of the quilt tells a story from the past, a certain history that has been brought into the present. The quilt pieces all fit together, the mismatched swatches of cloth together form a beautiful whole. The seams of adjacencies are sometimes precise and rigid, other times it takes a second glance to see where one piece ends and the other begins. The city is made up entirely from these slapdash patterned pieces. Each piece of this quilt has its own pattern, and this pattern is the distinct vibe of each neighborhood, the local dialects that vary from street corner to street corner, the favorite bowls of gumbo and hole in the wall bars.
Being from New Orleans is like being a member of a secret members-only club, a friendly group to outsiders, but whose foundation is so built on history and tradition it is hard for someone on the outside to fully become integrated as a full-fledged member. As impossible as it may seem to break through the invisible shield into understanding the magic of the real New Orleans, so much of the New Orleans spirit is accessible to anyone. The city’s laissez-faire demeanor can make newcomers feel like they truly belong here after only seeing a small slice of life. No matter where you are visiting from or how long you are staying, how badly you may mispronounce the names of the streets, how perplexed you may look the first time someone asks if you want your sandwich dressed, New Orleans welcomes you just like an old friend. Maybe this is because so many families have been here for many generations, living in the same neighborhoods and attending the same schools and growing up together. In many ways being from New Orleans is like being from a very small town and it is hard to meet a stranger. In New Orleans’ case, these very small towns are the neighborhoods of the city.
The comparison between New Orleans to a Caribbean city comes up a lot, especially in recent talks of rebuilding after the storm. Andres Duany, a contributor to Metropolis Magazine, described the city of New Orleans as being “not among the most haphazard, poorest, or misgoverned American cities, but rather the most organized, wealthiest, cleanest and competently governed of the Caribbean cities.” (Duany 2007). Many of the traditions and much of the culture comes from this leisurely way of life most often attributed to a Caribbean lifestyle. Historically, New Orleanians had “time to create the fabulously complex Creole dishes that simmer forever…time to practice and listen to music…time to make costumes and to parade…time to spend all day marking the passing of friends.” (Duany 2007). This lifestyle allowed a complex culture to form that may otherwise have not. When locals realize you are not from New Orleans, many go out of their way to extend a heartfelt welcome to their city. They want to know if you like it here and if you have visited their city before. They want to make sure you have been to all of their New Orleans favorites and local must-sees and dos. They have a sincere love for this city and want you to experience the same New Orleans that they have grown to know and cherish.
However, as ready as the locals are to share their city with newcomers and tourists, there is also a layer of mystique that is ingrained into the very core of this city and the people who live here. I suppose that like any new place, there are localisms that a newcomer may not “get” at first. The bumper stickers of black boxes with white x’s inside, the cryptic words Be a new orleanian. Wherever you are, the fondness towards the fleur-de-lis are all examples of these localisms. To me it is like catching a glimpse into a secret society whose members are so loyal and so allegiant to something that I can only barely begin to understand, let alone understand why they would be. These words and glyphs place an identity onto this city and its residents, and although I may not be aware of the whole background story I see what a powerful presence these symbols have on the present and future of New Orleans. It is like wearing a home team jersey on game day and seeking out other fans; New Orleanians want to claim their city and its residents as part of their own family or dearest friends. Wearing or displaying these symbols give a sense of belonging to both the person wearing the badge of allegiance and to those who may see it and be able to relate; it is a way to identify yourself within a city and region as both an individual and part of something much larger than yourself. Whatever it is, wherever it stems from, these badges of allegiance are worn so proudly, like the figurative heart on your sleeve, and they are what makes New Orleans so different from anywhere else.
These proclamations of local pride in the form of symbols and phrases were one of the first things I noticed upon arrival in my new city. It was late August and close to the two year anniversary of Katrina and the levee failure, and I thought that this outpouring of local pride might have something to do with remembrance. But as I became more immersed in the quirks and tics of New Orleans and learned more about this city than I could have in just a short vacation, I realized that allegiance to this city is not solely a result of the aftermath. The way that New Orleanians latch onto these localisms is just a part of who they are; it is part of declaring identity and linking themselves to the place they call home. New Orleans has always been a unique city, and the people who live here have always known what a special place this city is.
In the same way that local dialect, neighborhood identity, and regional cooking define New Orleanians, there are other symbols of this city that people are apt to take on as a mascot of sorts. The X, the fleur-de-lis, the shape of the crescent, the colors of Mardi Gras, the alligator…all have their roots deep into this unique culture and place. The bumper sticker that first caught my attention is an example of how this X symbol was thrust upon New Orleanians, and how many have chosen to hold onto these marks of catastrophe by turning them into artwork, T-shirts, even tattoos. (The Associated Press 2006). There are fleur-de-lis charms and flags, signs declaring that New Orleans is still home and they will rebuild, and purple, gold, and green are still the New Orleans colors of choice.
The X saw recent notoriety as a spray-painted marking used by Katrina rescue workers. Devised as a way to track which houses and buildings had been checked for occupants and hazardous material after the storm, many have remained prominently displayed on New Orleans homes and businesses. The marks vary in size, color, and location, but they have become a national icon of New Orleans and the people who call this place home. Bywater seems to have kept the most of these now weather worn symbols on reoccupied homes. Reoccupied homes in neighborhoods like Broadmoor and Lakeview have fewer of these marks remaining. Maybe it’s due to the bohemian inclination of Bywater neighborhood towards the offbeat that more Xs have stayed here, the colorful tattoos blend into the colorful houses. At the corner of Montegut and Chartres, there is a home with an iron replica of the existing X placed over the original spray-painted marking. In this instance, a bold statement was made by its occupant to never let the memory fade away. For them to add this X to their collection of New Orleanian emblems is a far cry from houses elsewhere that would rather have a contrasting paint blob than hold onto this symbol of tragedy.
The fleur-de-lis is another one of these iconic symbols that has historically been closely associated with New Orleans. It was originally an emblem from the Court of Louis XIV but now has more of an emotional connection to New Orleans. Fleur-de-lis is a French phrase meaning, “flower of the lily.” In connection with New Orleans, it was adopted during the French occupation of Louisiana from 1682-1762 and has been used ever since. More recently, the fleur-de-lis has been the emblem of the New Orleans Saints football team and worn on the player’s helmets and by many fans. But you don’t have to be a Saints fan to wear this symbol proudly; the fleur-de-lis is used repeatedly with no connection to the team emblem. I think that because the fleur-de-lis was a symbol long used in New Orleans art and architecture and even part of the official flag, it became a symbol of hope for the future of this rebuilding this city.
The colors of Mardi Gras are also important in defining symbols of New Orleans. The official colors for Mardi Gras are purple, green, and gold. These colors were chosen in 1872; purple representing justice, green standing for faith, and gold signifying power. Even outside of the Carnival Season, these three colors hold value to New Orleanians. Everything from new signs promoting rebuilding to old storefront signage used these traditional colors. It is even said that the colors of Mardi Gras influenced the choice of school colors for Louisiana State University and Tulane University. According to local legend, when LSU was deciding on its school colors for a game against Tulane, the stores in New Orleans had stocked up on Mardi Gras colored fabrics for the upcoming Carnival Season. LSU chose the colors purple and gold, and Tulane purchased the only remaining color. Whether this is true or just a good story, it is interesting that these colors are so associated with Mardi Gras that this seems like a very convincing and logical explanation.
The source for a lot of the more recently asserted badges of allegiance is a local t-shirt company, Dirty Coast. The two young owners are local entrepreneurs that wanted to put New Orleans in the national spotlight. They wanted people that lived elsewhere to realize, and remind the people that live here, that New Orleanians have a different attitude about their city. Their mission is to give people a way to say this is why I love New Orleans. This is why I live here and will continue to live here. The grassroots business first began to gain recognition as a way for New Orleanians living in other places after the storm to declare pride and place to a home they were far away from. It is a small company to say the least, and the shirts are screen-printed to order just down the street from their new storefront. These T-shirts have become known for their combination of self-effacing humor and hometown pride. Others are simple declarations of pride and place. Still others are riddled with inside jokes that only New Orleanians can share. (Stay Local 2006).
Dirty Coast created the tagline, Be a New Orleanian. Wherever you are. This was another localism I first noticed that I wanted to understand beyond just reading the words. These stickers are all over the country now; more than 200,000 have left the hands of Dirty Coast. In an email message, the creator explains it as being a state of mind as well as a badge of pride. (Haney 2007). Wherever you are in the world, be a New Orleanian. It means different things to different people, but that is what makes it so appealing. I somewhat disappointed in this explanation; I wanted something more, but even though the answer is simple the words remain just as compelling. It answers the question of meaning, but leads to more questions about how can you “be” a New Orleanian.
The King Alligator is a modern symbol of the city that seems to encompass just as much portrayal of local identity than the more established symbols. The X becoming a symbol for “X marks the NOLA” and signifying home I can understand. The fleur-de-lis was so long ago given as the symbol for New Orleans; of course it would remain as one. The catchy t-shirt phrases and bumper stickers have a trendy appeal for a place that you know so well, all the quirks you have come to love. The one symbol that seems to speak so clearly of New Orleans and yet is whimsically vague is the King Gator, designed for t-shirts and stationery by a local designer, Alexa Pulitzer. Alligators ruled the swampy bayou and the area now known as New Orleans long before the Europeans claimed it, but how has an image of an alligator wearing an elegant crown of royalty captured the creative spirit of so many looking for a way to wear their badge of allegiance for New Orleans? And yet it has; it is a testimony to the sub-tropical landscape and the pervasiveness of carnival’s royal tinge. (NOCVB 2006).
People have a tendency to associate their own mental images and ideas with different places. It is a way to give yourself a definition to an unknown or to create a snapshot of a memory so you can visit a place time and again. This type of word and image association comes naturally when you think about a city as unique as New Orleans. People all over America, all over the world, have a vivid idea of what this city looks like and feels like even if it is a place unvisited and thousands of miles away.
Being from a small town hundreds of miles from New Orleans, my own associations of “place” and therefore symbols of New Orleans were based on hearsay and pictures. I immediately thought of Mardi Gras and the wild times I had heard of happening in the French Quarter. I pulled images from my mind from media coverage after the levees broke and the city was under water. I thought of the taste of jambalaya and the sounds of jazz music, the fleur-de-lis charm someone had given me as a souvenir. Living in New Orleans, I was confronted with all of these preconceived notions about what makes this city “who” it is and what makes someone a true New Orleanian. I began to notice more intricate details, which only led me to wanting to know more.
Every place has its own characteristics; its personal symbols and ways of representing their past that have made their way into the life and texture of the present. Local symbols unite the people that live there and allow the place to have its own reality that distinguishes it from all other places. In New Orleans, these symbols have a stronger presence. They are more accentuated and acknowledged. They are a little more foreign, a little more veiled beneath a layer of mystery simply because they are unlike anything you would find in American cities elsewhere. They all gather together and whisper, You are in New Orleans and there is no place like this. The natives of New Orleans have an understanding of their city that is unmatched in other parts of the country. After living here and seeing this city from the eyes of a local (albeit transient) rather than the eyes of a visitor, I realize how unique and unreplicable, how precious this city really is.
Works Cited
Duany, Andres. “Restoring the Real New Orleans.” Metropolis Magazine (February 2007). http://metropolismag.com. (Accessed November 4, 2007).
Haney, Blake. E-mail message to author, November 13, 2007.
NBC Weather Plus Network LLC. The Associated Press. “Remembering Katrina.” (August 28, 2007) http://weatherplus.com/weathernews. (Accessed November 10, 2007.)
New Orleans Metropolitan Convention and Visitors Bureau. http://www.neworleanscvb.com (2006). (Accessed November 21, 2007).
The Urban Conservancy. Stay Local! “Success Stories: On Being New Orleanian.” December 7, 2006. http://staylocal.org. (Accessed November 21, 2007).
New Orleans Metropolitan Convention and Visitors Bureau. http://www.neworleanscvb.com (2006). (Accessed November 21, 2007).
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