s hannon Paxton is standing in the middle of a New Orleans street, her T-shirt declaring her a “Hood Celebrity,” the smile across her face an invitation to the crowd growing around her.

“How you doing, queen?” she calls through the mix of locals, tourists, and curious passersby to a trio of friends, who immediately ask for “something with Hennessy.” Paxton says of course, and her hand disappears among the rainbow
of pouches in the ice-filled wagon at her feet. She finds what she’s looking for and completes the transaction, handing off the pouch of Hennessy lemonade from the small cart filled with blood orange margaritas, Crown Apple
concoctions, and Paxton’s own special, a bright-blue tropical drink she calls the Pussy Fairy.

“Coming from me,” Paxton says, “they know, yeah, these are those drinks. They’re a little stronger than normal. I want to give you your money’s worth because I want my money.”

It’s one of those Sunday afternoons in New Orleans that could convince you to live here forever. It’s early fall, the sky is crystal clear, and behind Paxton is the start of the Sudan Social and Pleasure Club second-line, one of
the city’s first to return after a two-year pandemic hiatus from the near-weekly parading tradition among New Orleans’ Black residents.

“How you doing, queen?” she calls through the mix of locals, tourists, and curious passersby to a trio of friends, who immediately ask for “something with Hennessy.” Paxton says of course, and her hand disappears among the rainbow
of pouches in the ice-filled wagon at her feet. She finds what she’s looking for and completes the transaction, handing off the pouch of Hennessy lemonade from the small cart filled with blood orange margaritas, Crown Apple
concoctions, and Paxton’s own special, a bright-blue tropical drink she calls the Pussy Fairy.

“Coming from me,” Paxton says, “they know, yeah, these are those drinks. They’re a little stronger than normal. I want to give you your money’s worth because I want my money.”

It’s one of those Sunday afternoons in New Orleans that could convince you to live here forever. It’s early fall, the sky is crystal clear, and behind Paxton is the start of the Sudan Social and Pleasure Club second-line, one of
the city’s first to return after a two-year pandemic hiatus from the near-weekly parading tradition among New Orleans’ Black residents.