Coachella it ain’t. There are no flower-crowned fashionistas in outfits selected weeks in advance; there are no celebrities posing for photographers with $700 handbags; and there are definitely no swag-filled gifting suites.
Here, it’s all about the music, music, music, not to mention crawfish bread and alligator pie. Prefer Prada? Well, don’t let the screen door hit you on the way out!
Elle magazine just did a feature on international festival style and omitted Jazz Fest completely. But having just returned from yet another boozy-bluesy N’Awlins weekend, I beg to differ. The style here is just a bit more…eclectic.
First things first: It can be hellishly hot and humid in New Orleans, so straw sunhats or decorated umbrellas are on everyone’s packing list. My friends Claire Varney (left) and Ingrid Wright get into the spirit.
In the city of no judgements, men have just as much fashion fun as the women jazzing up their accessories. Knowing how to twirl a lady around is key, too, as the music (literally) never stops here.
While colloquially called Jazz Fest, there’s really not that much jazz going on. It’s Jazz & Heritage Fest, so there’s a lot of celebration of cultures, from Creole to Native American. Huge colorful feather headdresses get everyone movin’ and groovin’.
Yours truly having a Bloody Mary at Luizza’s. If you’ve been to Fest, you’ve surely hit this famous dive coming or going, probably both. A shout out to my friends Stephan & Co jewelry and Laundry by Shelli Segal hats for the accessories (who said there was no fashion at Fest?).
Speaking of fashion, it seemed fitting that I found this elegantly hatted woman outside the Wine & Champagne stand. She definitely looked fine enough for a day at the races!
Despite the psychedelic coat, gloves, fringed umbrella, hat, sunglasses and bag, her smile still wins for best accessory.
The signature food at Fest and in the city overall cannot be stressed enough. From gumbo to po-boys to pulled pork with endless varieties of hot sauce, the food completely sets the tone for the weekend. But while I can’t get enough crawfish ettouffe or the Fest’s famous Crawfish Monica, the crawfish boil (shown above) is way too creepy crawly for me.
Last but not least, don’t forget to swing by the French Market for a real alligator head souvenir. Hope y’all enjoyed the photos. See you next year and “laissez les bon temps roulez!”