💜💚💛 Mardi Gras + Fat Tuesday (Feb 17, 2026): the beautiful story

Mardi Gras is literally French — Mardi meaning Tuesday and Gras meaning Fat — so Mardi Gras translates directly to “Fat Tuesday.” It belongs to an old European tradition of merrymaking before a seasonal shift. And the “fat” part wasn’t just poetic. It was practical. People used up rich ingredients like meat, butter, eggs and cheese in one final, indulgent stretch of celebration.

Most people think Mardi Gras began in New Orleans, Louisiana. But the earliest documented U.S. Mardi Gras celebrations are tied to French colonial settlements along the Gulf Coast. French settlers held a Mardi Gras–style celebration in Mobile, Alabama, as early as 1703 — before New Orleans was even founded in 1718.

But New Orleans is where it transformed.

New Orleans became the world-famous center of American Mardi Gras by turning the season into something uniquely local — parades, music, masks, krewes and a food culture that fused French, Spanish, African, Caribbean, and Indigenous influences into one living, breathing tradition.

In the beginning, celebrations were more neighborhood-centered. Think balls, masked gatherings, social clubs — community rituals before the massive public parades developed. Over time, organized “krewes” (social organizations) became the engines of Mardi Gras. They staged elaborate parades and glittering balls, building a public tradition so big and so visually stunning that it began drawing visitors from all over.

The iconic Carnival colors — purple, green, and gold — were selected in 1872. They’re commonly explained as symbolizing justice, faith, and power. Whether you know their meanings or not, once you see them draped across balconies, layered in beads, stitched into costumes, and glowing under streetlights, you never forget them.

Carnival season isn’t just one day.

It kicks off on Twelfth Night and builds slowly toward Fat Tuesday. That’s why King Cake shows up for weeks. That’s why parades ramp up. That’s why the city gradually shifts into full costume-and-glitter mode long before February 17th ever arrives.

Modern Mardi Gras parades are giant mobile artworks.

Massive floats. Hand-built props. Themed designs. Layers of symbolism. Some krewes spend an entire year conceptualizing and constructing what will roll down the streets for just a few hours. The throws — beads, cups, doubloons, trinkets, specialty items — are part of the ritual. Strangers cheer for strangers.

It’s celebration and theater.

Mardi Gras is one of America’s largest cultural gatherings. Locals. Regional road-trippers. National visitors. International tourists. Everyone mixing together in one shared pulse.

And then there’s the food.

The tastes of Carnival are unmistakable: King Cake, gumbo, jambalaya, red beans & rice, beignets, po’boys, crawfish, étouffée, and so much more. Bowls of gumbo simmer for hours — dark, rich, and layered with spice. Jambalaya arrives steaming, packed with sausage, seafood and bold flavor in every bite. Red beans & rice feel like comfort in a bowl, slow-cooked and soulful. Beignets come hot and airy, buried beneath powdered sugar. Crispy po’boys stacked high with shrimp or roast beef.

If you’ve never heard of a King Cake, it’s the signature food icon of the season — decorated in purple, green, and gold, hiding a tiny baby inside. If you get the slice with the baby, you’re crowned Queen or King for the day. It’s said to symbolize good luck — and sometimes it carries the playful responsibility of hosting the next gathering or buying the next cake. Celebration with a wink.

The music is the heartbeat.

Brass bands rounding the corner before you see them. Jazz drifting from open doorways and second-story balconies. Funk and R&B spilling into the streets. Bounce shaking the sidewalks beneath your feet. Zydeco and Cajun rhythms weaving through it all. You feel the bass in your chest. You hear horns echo off old brick buildings. Strangers clap in time. There is almost no silence. Music isn’t background noise — it’s oxygen.

And the art doesn’t stop at the floats.

Feathered suits. Sequined masks. Beaded masterpieces stitched by hand. Generations passing down techniques and stories. The streets themselves become galleries. The balconies become stages. The architecture — ironwork curling over centuries-old facades frames it all like a living painting.

It’s impossible to describe this city to someone who has never been. And truly, we all experience things differently — which is part of the beauty. But going during Mardi Gras feels like stepping inside a secret world that exists nowhere else.

It’s beauty and chaos wrapped in costume. It’s good food and better music. It’s artistry layered over history. It’s architecture glowing under parade lights. It’s strangers becoming temporary neighbors.

We’ve felt that energy. We’ve tasted that food. We’ve stood under those beads and listened to the music echo through the streets. And we’re grateful we experienced it.

Mardi Gras isn’t just a party. It’s culture. It’s craftsmanship. It’s community. It’s sound and color and flavor and tradition colliding in the most American way possible.

Every February, we’re reminded that sometimes the most beautiful stories are the ones where the whole city dresses up and invites the world to join in.

And long before cameras, that story was already being documented.

The image we’ve included with this article is a color lithograph from 1878, originally published in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper — one of the most widely read illustrated newspapers in the United States during the 19th century. Before photography could be mass-reproduced in newspapers, artists were sent into the crowds to sketch scenes by hand. Those sketches were then transformed into detailed wood engravings or lithographs for publication. This particular image appeared in the March 16, 1878 issue, covering Mardi Gras festivities that had taken place earlier that season in New Orleans. The artist — likely a staff illustrator — would have observed the parade in person, sketched on site, and sent the drawings back to New York, where engravers transferred the artwork to printing plates. Color was added through a labor-intensive chromolithograph process, which explains the softer, muted tones rather than the neon palette we associate with Mardi Gras today. These prints were storytelling tools — visual journalism — allowing people who would never travel to Louisiana to “see” the spectacle unfolding on Canal Street, much like the photographs and videos that pull us in today.

The scene captures Mardi Gras on Canal Street in 1878, one of the city’s primary parade routes. In the center stands what is likely the Henry Clay statue, anchoring the composition amid the swirl of motion. Horse-drawn floats dominate the procession. Masked riders appear in elaborate costume. Crowds line balconies and sidewalks, pressing forward for a better view. Flags in purple, green, and gold — the Carnival colors even then — wave above the street. In the foreground, a mounted armored figure rides atop a float, reflecting the theatrical themes common to krewes of that era. Early parades often drew inspiration from mythology, royalty and medieval imagery, creating pageantry that felt both regal and fantastical. Looking at this illustration today, we aren’t just seeing a parade — we’re witnessing the moment Mardi Gras was becoming the grand public spectacle that would define New Orleans for generations.

It’s been 323 years since the first documented Mardi Gras celebration in America, and the spirit is still alive. Through centuries of change, the culture, the craft, the food, and the music have held communities together. That continuity — that shared joy — is our Vibe.

🖼️ Image Credit: “Mardi Gras on Canal Street, New Orleans, 1878,” color lithograph from Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper (1878). Public Domain.