Girl Power: A personal account of New Orleans’ DIVA Day 2025
Beverages in hand and bustiers laced, dozens of DIVAs gathered on the balcony of Arnaud’s, watching as a crowd gathered on Bourbon Street below. My friend, Alexandra Webre, who works in the Big Easy and lives just outside it, answered my question the moment it crossed my mind. “The greasing of the poles at the Royal Sonesta.” An explosion of joyous brass rang out as the doors to the balcony opened, revealing the sounds of the jazz band inside and making way for a waitress carrying a platter of Crabmeat Prentiss in phyllo cups. Carefully plucking one from the platter, I thought, “This is how you do Mardi Gras.”
Last year, my friend and former yearbook teacher, Dianne Madden, posted on Instagram about an exclusive women’s Mardi Gras club sporting hand-beaded bustiers and tossing recyclable wooden necklaces. She graciously let me interview her, explaining her role as a Divine Director and the history of The Divine Protectors of Endangered Pleasures, or DIVAs. Then, she welcomed me and photographer Sean Gasser into her home to see the process of beading a bustier. Later in the year, she invited me to join the festivities. I didn’t hesitate to say yes—my only Mardi Gras memories were made in college, blurred by cheap daiquiris and a decade gone by, and they begged for a refresh.
Expectation vs. Reality
An invitation to DIVA Day is an honor and an assignment. Hailed as one of the first beaded bustier groups to promenade on Bourbon, a hand-beaded bustier is a must. This didn’t scare me. Now, I won’t go so far as to say I am crafty, but I’m handy with a hot glue gun. Or so I thought.
“Try doing the back part, which no one will really see. Then, when you get the hang of it, start on the front,” Alexandra texted me. This was great advice that I, unfortunately, could not follow because I had already completed the focal point of the front of my bustier—a large, silver arrow with a noticeable bend. After sending an SOS to the Baton Rouge DIVAs group chat, following their advice, I snagged an extra set of chopsticks during my next visit to Uchi Sushi. With the help of a blow dryer and chopsticks, I somewhat straightened the bent portion. Good enough.
As I finished the bustier’s bodice, a childhood memory surfaced of an afternoon spent with my grandmother and her longtime friend, Pam Soileau, an abstract artist whose work is displayed in galleries across the United States. While working on an art project for my sixth-grade religion class, my grandmother (knowing the limit of her crafty capabilities) brought me to Pam’s house for help. As she made a pot of coffee, my grandmother and I admired a papier mâché bust drying in her studio. “Pam, they’re uneven,” my grandma said with wide eyes. She giggled, then quipped, “Well, aren’t yours?” And they laughed the way girlfriends with decades of shared memories together do. That laughter rang in my head as I beaded the bust portion—uneven, of course.
Upon arriving at Arnaud’s Friday morning, I immediately regretted how many times I thought “good enough” and moved on. These DIVAs can bead!
The geometric patterns, precisely beaded lettering, and perfect symmetry wowed me. Each bustier was a work of art worthy of a gallery—so much so that the St. Tammany Art Association displays the DIVA bustiers annually. And it’s clear why.
Oh, how I love being a woman
Yet, as impressive as the bustiers (complete with dazzling attire and ornate headpieces) were, witnessing the power of women gathering, building relationships and joining in the enjoyment of femininity and womanhood made me a bit misty-eyed. The weight of societal expectations seemed to melt as we toasted indulgence. Then, the room erupted in raucous applause as each DIVA paraded down the ballroom runway to show off their hard work and carefully crafted outfits.
But the realities of womanhood and motherhood were never far. During the luncheon, between bites of crab cakes, a DIVA across the table dressed as Taylor Swift pulled wearable breast pumps from her bustier, pouring breast milk into a bottle as the table cheered. The camaraderie again made me misty-eyed.
Soon, the key phrase was spoken, a last call of sorts. “Elvis has entered the building.” It was time.
As the Elvi joined to lead us on our promenade down Bourbon Street, the prowess of the DIVAs came to life. “This isn’t good for my ego,” Alexandra laughed, beaming as people waved and screamed, “Hail DIVA!” while reaching for one of the exclusive wooden beads.
The true power of the DIVAs isn’t just in their ability to bead intricate bustiers—it’s in the sisterhood they’ve woven just as tightly over 24 years. United by creativity, philanthropy and a commitment to sustainability, they make an impact far beyond the parade route. This year, to honor breast cancer survivors, including Divine Designator Darnell Shuart, the DIVAs donated $5,000 of their dues to support the mission of Mary Bird Perkins Cancer Center, embodying the spirit of giving and support that has been a part of women’s beading circles for hundreds of years across dozens of cultures.
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Through countless hours of beading, laughing and cheering each other on, they transform more than just fabric; they build bonds that celebrate creativity, resilience and unwavering support. A DIVA’s greatest strength lies in her ability to welcome with open arms, rally around one another in times of need, and empower each other to shine—both on and off the parade route.
HAIL DIVA!
To learn more about the Divine Protectors of Endangered Pleasures and see photos of the 24th annual promenade and luncheon, follow @divine_protectors on Instagram. Read the original story about the DIVAs published in January 2024 here.
