All photos by Elsa Hahne.
Plush? “You can never have enough plush.”
Coozies? “You can never have enough coozies.”
It’s a month from Mardi Gras and Virginia Saussy’s going over the throws for this year’s Muses parade. Saussy’s the creative director for the Krewe of Muses, and she’s fidgeting, trying to relax and talk in the living room of her house on the parade route, but constantly remembering something in another room or something on her iPad that she wants to show off. The throws the members will have on the floats when Muses rolls on Thursday, February 16 are not in yet, but she has spread out prototypes of many of them including a retro “floater” pen that will send Muses’ signature floats down the street when tilted sideways. She’s proud of this year’s coin purse on a lanyard—”You can use the coin purse. You can use the lanyard. You can use the coin purse with the lanyard.”—and a few throws we can’t talk about. Saussy’s torn between the desire to show off the krewe’s handiwork and the tradition of secrecy that’s always been part of Mardi Gras. We can take pictures of many throws but not others, she says, because the parade’s theme is on it.
Krewe of Muses Creative Director Virginia Saussy.
Once, glass beads were the cherry throw of Mardi Gras. Today, they’ve made a slight comeback for those nostalgic for their heyday, but no amount of retro fondness has sparked resurgent interest in the choker-length strings of plastic beads that closed with a clasp, the beads that became the red-headed stepchildren of Carnival. Today, 33-inch strings of metallic beads are the bottom of the line and often land unloved, only to be raked up by inmates before they’re shipped to the Island of Misfit Throws.
The generosity of superkrewes has raised expectations for how much should come off a float, and if the skies aren’t darkened with beads and cups, some find a parade wanting. Saussy, who watches parades when she’s not riding, says appearances are deceiving. “Proteus is as generous as Bacchus,” she says, but 10 riders to a side create a very different impression from 30 to 40 on two tiers.
Decisions regarding what to throw are likely simpler for Proteus. The old line parade seems to throw more and longer beads than it once did, but most feature its iconic image, a seahorse. Because Muses is satirical, with throws tied to the theme, there are decisions to make every year regarding how to represent the theme and what people will want. “We have a couple of philosophies,” she says. “One is instant gratification throws. People want something they can utilize immediately. For years, people have wanted to do iron-ons. What are you going to do? Put it in your pocket and go home and iron it on later? Stick-on works better. We try to do a ball every year, balance it out for men and women.”
In the past, Muses has thrown such one-offs as games and manicure sets, but they try to maintain a sense of tradition as well. They are bringing back such staples as the leatherette snap bracelets and the opener/light on a string of beads. “People begged for it,” she says. They also do a signature shoe bead with the year on it each time. Though they look similar from year to year, Saussy says they’re in no danger of running out of designs for the shoe bead. “We’ve only done 12 shoes. I have another 120 in my closet.”
Saussy pulls out this year’s shoe bracelet—”They’re some of the easiest things to throw”—and points out that they’re strung by hand at a factory in China. Saussy and krewe Captain Staci Rosenberg have visited China to see the factory that made their throws. “We had seen a horrifying documentary on bead factories [Mardi Gras: Made in China] and it kind of freaked us out,” she says. “The bead factory was really nice, actually. It had a purple, green, and gold entrance and everyone wore purple, green, and gold uniforms. A lot of young women, they live in a dorm next door to the factory. We said, ‘We should have brought a video,’ and the owner said, ‘No! Don’t tell them you throw them off of floats. They think they’re making very popular jewelry.’ And they are. It is extremely popular and in demand for a very brief period.”
On more than one occasion, though, there were key differences between the throws they ordered and the throws they received. Last year’s jelly shoe magnet was not supposed to be jelly. Once the krewe had 10,000 units of them, it had no choice but to throw them anyway. The version of the shoe magnet that will be thrown this year represents what Muses envisioned a year ago.
Another screw-up was last year’s lunch box. “The lunch box was supposed to hold a six-pack,” Saussy says. “We measured it exactly. By the time we got them, they had taken a quarter-inch off of every dimension.”
Recently, Muses decided to throw toothbrushes. The prototype was individually wrapped, but when the toothbrushes were shipped, they arrived unexpectedly in bundles of 12. “People ended up throwing them by the dozens,” Saussy says. “I know someone who runs a home for kids and he was excited: ‘I caught 15 dozen. Kids will have toothbrushes for years.’”
Still, not all failed throws can be blamed on issues with the manufacturer. One that seemed like a good idea at the time was Muses glitter soap in the shape of a shoe. “It stunk so bad, and you got glitter all over your bathroom as it melted,” she says.
The special throws often come with special wrapping, which sometimes poses a problem. Like more and more krewes, Muses tries to be ecologically conscientious. “We try to do some green things with recycled materials,” Saussy says. “But then we get stuff from China and it’s all individually packaged.”
If they can’t reduce the krewe’s carbon footprint, they at least try to cut down on the mess. Throws are loaded on in throwable shopping bags that are unique to each year, and no cardboard boxes are allowed on the float. Lieutenants bring garbage bags on their floats to help control the trash. They also don’t throw things people don’t want. “We stopped throwing doubloons in ‘04 or ‘05,” she says. “We found, like, eight people who wanted doubloons on the whole route each year. It seemed like a huge waste. When you heard them hit the ground, nobody’s picking them up.”
Typically, throws are desirable for the time they’re in the air and the duration of the parade. Once they hit the ground or the parade ends, the spell is broken. At home in the summer months, beads are more things to collect dust and move. Partially through luck and partially by design, Muses has discovered that their throws have a life beyond Carnival. On Facebook, fans post photos of how they use their throws year-around, and Saussy saw the life of their throws first-hand.
“One year we did these flashing, rubbery bracelets,” she says. “After Katrina, a friend of mine asked me to help her clean out her house. The water had been over the ceiling. We walk in, and on the back wall there’s one flashing Muses bracelet, still glowing.”
The container throws have stayed in use as more than just decoration. “I saw the bags and lunch boxes every day at Jazz Fest. We still see the backpacks that we threw years ago on the street all the time. That’s one of our goals—we want to do things that are long term.”
