A year and a half ago, I became a Rebel by the name of PrinCec Vodka-Fraise (Vodka-Strawberry in English). Les Rebelles is my girl gang, a concept very common here in New Orleans, but there isn’t really an equivalent in France. A group of girls who find themselves every week to dance, but not just that. Because there is also a philosophy that goes with these girls, feminist but not sexist values, trust, self-acceptance, tolerance, mutual help … If there are any who lose their house in the floods to Baton Rouge, or others who have to help their family in Haiti, on est là, les Rebelles sont là. But we are there too to celebrate birthdays, weddings, babies, really, life.
I’m PrinCec Vodka-Fraise, a character in contrast, a double personality in the double personality. I fell from my asteroid lost in space, little princess, to share my pink-sweet beverage with those I meet on the sweaty roads of Louisiana. A sweet, but ultimately full-bodied, and completely subversive beverage that puts glitter in the eyes, but also fire in the veins, which especially makes dancing endless until the end of the night. On est là, les Rebelles sont là.
Then all these colorful characters, meet once a week to share a good mood listening to music of all kinds. Charleston, Gogo, French Cancan … The goal is to dance and have fun. Then, from time to time, we give a show, for a gala, a festival or a party … And then we get into costumes, but only the best. Pretty personalized dresses, wigs, make-up … We are artists or we are not. And as for myself, although I am not very gifted with a needle in my hands, I love my beautiful dresses with sequins and frills. On est là, les Rebelles sont là.
So to be a Rebel is to love life and dancing, to love France and the United States, to love the present and the 20s, 40s, or 60s. It is to be proud to be a girl. And if today my travel plans make me leave the group, I know that I will always be part of the family.