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The second technique, and the one with the more rigidly defined gender roles, is of course the famous bead flash - a cherished tradition already immortalized on many a magazine and web page. The way it proceeds is roughly as follows: Whether to a bead thrower on a float, a bead dangler on a balcony, or a bead wearer on the street, the female seeking even more beadage first makes eye contact with a potential supplier. A contract is then negotiated (verbally or just with sign language), and for a brief moment the woman lifts up, pulls down, or otherwise undoes her top. This is followed by her receipt of the agreed-upon beads, and often some kisses blown in thanks - but not before a cascade of camera shutters (and at night, photographic flashes) that would put a presidential press conference to shame.
And so it goes. Everywhere you look in this through-the-looking-glass world, women happily expose their breasts in exchange for yet another strand of (in our universe) essentially worthless beads. Crowds chant "Show us your tits!" and no-one, least of all the woman on the balcony being chanted to, takes the slightest offense. In any other city at any other time, this might be considered gross harassment. Charges might be laid. But here everything is always by mutual consent. It's accepted. It's normal. If anything, it's considered insulting NOT to ask! And speaking of accepted behavior, watching over it all, lining every parade route and surveying every corner of Bourbon Street, the combined forces of local, highway, and state police officers maintain a watchful, and generally smiling eye.
Now to be fair, many women (the vast majority, in fact) gather their beads without resorting to flashing. But somehow the ones who do flash seem to be having a bit more fun. And then of course there's that elite category of ladies who have absolutely no need to flash, since all they're wearing from the waist up is colorful and highly decorative body paint!
Even on Bourban Street however, rules still exist. For either gender, flashing below the waist, if observed by the local constabulary, can get you hustled off the street in short order. (I witnessed instances of both.) Some "mooning" from the balconies appears to be tolerated, but I never did figure out just how far they'd let that kind of thing go. For that matter, I'm still unsure who you have to know to secure one of those coveted French Quarter balcony spots.
But here are some other tidbits I did manage to pick up which will enhance your chances of obtaining Mardi Gras Flasher Pics:
Apparently, the flashing for beads ritual can be observed in the French Quarter almost year-round,though clearly not as often as during the two weeks leading up to Fat Tuesday.
Getting an exposure on the exposers can be challenging, in part because so many other people are trying to do the same. I saw everything from semi-pro video cams to those point 'n' shoot 'n' pray disposable numbers, all trying to capture this remarkable ritual on film. The flashers themselves don't seem to mind, but getting within shooting range requires a combination of luck, intuition, and quick reflexes, since on the final day of Mardi Gras the crowds along Bourbon Street become so thick you begin to experience pedestrian gridlock.
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