In the annals of New Orleans, akin to myriad other urban centers, there existed a prohibition wherein men assuming feminine attire in public were deemed transgressors. However, within the confines of New Orleans, an exemption was often extended on a singular, momentous occasion. Amidst the revelry of Mardi Gras, law enforcement turned a blind eye and onlookers cheered with gusto at the sight of individuals partaking in cross-dressing.
Traditionally, Mardi Gras epitomizes a period of unrestrained indulgence, particularly in gastronomy, libations, revelry, and grandeur. Participants immerse themselves in extravagance, marking the interim prior to Ash Wednesday when the rigors of fasting and penitence commence in observance of Lent. In the storied tapestry of New Orleans, a bastion of Catholicism, Mardi Gras also furnished a rare platform for members of the LGBTQ community to unabashedly manifest their identities. Given the pivotal role of costumery in these festivities, such celebrations engendered a milieu wherein societal norms, including those pertaining to gender, were challenged. Over time, LGBTQ individuals in New Orleans co-opted Mardi Gras customs to fortify community bonds in defiance of discrimination and mortality.
During the mid-1800s, the aristocracy of New Orleans, erstwhile a colonial outpost of Catholic dominions, commenced the adoption of European customs such as masquerade balls, interweaving them into the fabric of Mardi Gras celebrations. Affluent gentlemen orchestrated clandestine, exclusive social societies dubbed krewes. In 1857, the Krewe of Comus elevated their private masquerade to a public nocturnal procession, bringing forth the spectacle onto the thoroughfares.
Simultaneously, a municipal edict in that very year sought to curtail raucous, masked processions by outlawing the donning of masks or disguises "in the streets, or in any public place." While municipalities nationwide were beginning to enact legislation expressly prohibiting cross-dressing, New Orleans authorities invoked local statutes to regulate gender expression, even on Halloween. In essence, anti-cross-dressing statutes empowered the state to surveil individuals' gender manifestations, upholding conventional gender paradigms by penalizing "indecent" attire. However, New Orleans authorities turned a blind eye during the pre-Lenten revelries of Mardi Gras. Consequently, throughout the late 19th century and well into the 20th, cross-dressing during Mardi Gras bore diminished peril and emerged as a prevalent choice for male spectators of the parades.
Buoyed by these customs, LGBTQ advocacy surrounding Mardi Gras gained traction as the LGBTQ community burgeoned in New Orleans. Nationally, the advent of World War II ushered in novel venues for same-sex interactions in military encampments. Subsequently, the postwar economic upturn mitigated dependence on familial support, prompting greater LGBTQ mobilization around their identities. Notably, in New Orleans, Bourbon Street emerged as a nucleus of gay life, catalyzing the inception of the Fat Monday Luncheon by gay men at a renowned French Quarter eatery in 1949.
Nevertheless, antipathy persisted as a pervasive threat. Amidst the post-war era fraught with the "Lavender Scare"—a campaign of repression stemming from fears of communism and apprehensions regarding sexual "deviants"—New Orleans law enforcement criminalized public displays of gay culture, such as arresting homosexuals for dancing together or imbibing in establishments deemed "immoral." Local proprietors compounded this discriminatory milieu by coercing municipal authorities to "purge the deviants." Police intensified charges against LGBTQ individuals, repurposing statutes intended to prevent sidewalk obstruction as a pretext for apprehending LGBTQ individuals congregating outside Bourbon Street establishments. The 1958 exoneration of Tulane University students implicated in the murder of a homosexual individual near Bourbon Street underscored the systemic devaluation of gay lives, even within a city where gay subcultures were burgeoning.
Nevertheless, amidst this adversity, the 1950s witnessed the inception of gay Mardi Gras balls, destined to become the epitome of social gatherings in New Orleans. Notably, in 1958—the same year as the Tulane exonerations—the inaugural mock ball hosted by the Krewe of Yuga heralded the advent of gay Mardi Gras krewes.
Much akin to their heterosexual counterparts, the Krewe of Yuga comprised predominantly of affluent Caucasian males. Their mock ball adhered largely to the traditional framework of Mardi Gras balls. However, members of Yuga employed camp aesthetics to lampoon the venerable tradition of aristocrats masquerading as European royalty. For instance, the Krewe of Yuga introduced the concept of "debutramps," a drag caricature of debutantes, the youthful aristocratic females formally introduced to society upon reaching maturity. While traditional balls emphasized the role of a king, the Krewe of Yuga emphasized the coronation of the queen, thereby augmenting the drag performances while paying homage to the colloquial term "queen," a term of endearment within the gay community.
As the Krewe of Yuga's drag ball burgeoned in sophistication annually, the queen assumed paramount significance. The inaugural Queen of Yuga, resplendent in a gown bedecked in golden sequins, was heralded amidst the midnight cries of "All hail Queen Yuga the First, the fabulous Yuga Regina!" On occasion, the queen's attire, often adorned with feathered, feminine motifs in defiance of conventional masculinity, emerged as the focal point of the festivities.
For five years, the Yuga balls eluded police scrutiny until the notorious 1962 ball. Instead of seeking refuge beneath the auspices of Mardi Gras, a local complaint precipitated a police raid on the purportedly "obscenely lascivious" "stag party," resulting in nearly 100 arrests. The raid underscored the tenuous threshold of acceptance accorded by law enforcement and municipal authorities to LGBTQ culture. Despite the dissolution of the Krewe of Yuga in that year, its legacy endured, spawning numerous other gay krewes in the early 1960s, all of which adopted the mantle of the Yuga ball, with the queen assuming a pivotal role in these gatherings.