How to Not Look Like a Tourist in New Orleans

Want to know how not to look like a tourist in New Orleans? Wear real shoes and leave the Mardi Gras beads at the hotel unless it's actually Carnival. Then slow down and say hello to people. That gets you about ninety percent of the way.

We say all of this with love. Everybody's a tourist somewhere, and some of our favorite people in this city started out as one. Blake has a name for them: Nola Converts, people who visited once, felt like they'd come home and eventually made the move. In his words, a lot of them "knew the city much deeper than I did." So consider this less of a roast and more of a field guide. Here's how we can tell, and how to blend in.

The Beads in July

Mardi Gras beads are a seasonal item. Carnival runs from Twelfth Night in January to Fat Tuesday, and during those weeks, beads on a stranger mean they had a good night. In the middle of July, beads around somebody's neck usually mean they bought them at a souvenir shop on the way in from the airport.

Locals do keep beads year round, just not on their bodies. They hang from the oak trees on St. Charles and from the rearview mirror of every other car in Mid-City. Think of them as decoration, not an outfit.

The Shoes

You can spot a first-timer by their feet. Flip-flops on Bourbon Street on a Saturday night are a decision you'll make exactly once. Heels on a French Quarter sidewalk are an act of faith.

The sidewalks here have been pushed up by oak roots for a century, and the streets are in a constant negotiation with the potholes. Locals wear shoes they can walk in, and they walk with their eyes on the ground. You'll notice a lot of people just walk in the street. That's not a tourist move. That's a local who knows the sidewalk on that block is worse.

The Weather Wardrobe

Visitors pack for the forecast. Locals pack for the humidity.

You can tell a tourist in August because they're wearing jeans and wondering why they feel like they're inside a dishwasher. Locals are in the lightest thing they own, ideally sleeveless. That's why Died of Humidity is a tank, and why we wrote a whole piece on humidity as the city's great unifier.

Winter flips it around. The tourist in shorts in January is probably from Minnesota and having the time of their life. The person next to them in a puffer coat and a scarf is from here, and it's 58 degrees, and they would like you to know they are freezing.

The Vocabulary

A few words will give you away fast, and a few will make you sound like you've been here for years.

It's a snowball, not a snow cone, and the snowball stands will gently let you know. The grassy strip in the middle of the boulevard is the neutral ground, never the median. Your po-boy can come dressed, which means lettuce, tomato, pickles and mayo. And you don't go grocery shopping here. You make groceries, ideally with a Makin' Groceries Tote.

Then there's "where y'at," the greeting that gave the Yat dialect its name. It's hello, not a question about your location. The right answer is "awright," or some version of it. Tell them where you actually are and you've outed yourself. Practice it enough and you can sew a Where Y'at? Patch on your jacket.

For the street names, we'll let our If You Can Read This You're A Local shirt do the teaching. If you can pronounce Tchoupitoulas on the first try, you've either been here before or you're lying.

The Map Held Up in the Air

Locals don't give directions with north and south. The river bends so much that it wouldn't help anyway. Everything is toward the river or toward the lake, uptown or downtown, and if somebody tells you a place is "on the lake side of Magazine," that's all you're getting.

So if you're standing on a corner turning your phone around in circles, you're not alone. Everybody does it at first. Learn the four directions and you'll stop. We put them on a shirt: River. Lake. Uptown. Downtown.

The Palmetto Bug Scream

Sooner or later, a large brown cockroach is going to fly at your head. We're sorry. It's part of the deal.

The visitor screams, drops their drink and needs a moment. The local barely looks up. They've made peace with the palmetto bug as an unwelcome roommate, and their only reaction is to finish the sentence they were in the middle of.

The Yard-Long Souvenir Cup

You'll see them all over Bourbon Street: giant plastic novelty cups, filled with something neon. They're fun, and they're a dead giveaway.

Locals drink on the street too, just out of a regular go-cup the bartender hands over on the way out. Some of us bring our own. Our Fairgrounds Go-Cup is a silicone pint made for exactly that, from the kitchen to the porch and back.

The King Cake Knife

If you're in town during Carnival, someone will offer you king cake. Here's a quiet test. Locals know the plastic knife that comes with it stays in the box. You use it, you put it back. We felt strongly enough about this to print it on a shirt.

And if you find the baby in your slice, congratulations. You're buying the next one. Hiding the baby is a tourist move, and people will find out.

The Pace

This one's harder to see, but locals can feel it. Visitors move like they're on a schedule, because they are. They walk fast and try to fit four neighborhoods into one afternoon.

Locals linger. Lunch turns into talking about dinner. A quick errand turns into forty minutes because you ran into somebody's aunt at the corner store. The city runs on its own clock, and you'll blend in the moment you stop fighting it.

How to Actually Blend In

You don't have to fake anything. Say hello to people on the street, because they'll say it back. Talk to the bartender, and to the person next to you at the bar. Ask where they like to eat instead of reading it off a list. Walk around a neighborhood that isn't the French Quarter, and skip the tourist traps locals quietly skip. Tip the musicians.

And if you want to wear something that tells people you get it, wear a shirt that only makes sense if you know the place. That's what we've been making for twenty years. Come find us on Magazine Street or Chartres Street and we'll help you pick one. Then go home and be a New Orleanian, wherever you are.

How to Not Look Like a Tourist in New Orleans: FAQ

How do you not look like a tourist in New Orleans?

Wear comfortable walking shoes and skip the Mardi Gras beads outside of Carnival season. Learn a few local words like "neutral ground" and "where y'at," and most of all, slow down and talk to people.

What do locals wear in New Orleans?

Light, breathable clothes for most of the year because of the humidity, and shoes made for uneven sidewalks. Locals also tend to wear shirts from local designers rather than souvenir shops.

What does "where y'at" mean in New Orleans?

It's a greeting, roughly "how are you doing." The usual answer is "awright," not where you actually are.