You might think you’re not looking at much now, but, well, let me show you a little something. See this photo? That was me in 1912. Kicking up my heels between loads on laundry day, little Nila yapping happy to be outside in the sunshine. Life was good, you know? We were all as happy as Nila, all as happy as puppies. You believe me? Good for you. It’s been so long, sometimes I almost believe it was as good as I’m telling it now. But good for you for believing it to be so. I almost don’t want to tell the real story with its ups and downs. But you want to know, you paid to know and time is money so here you go.
It was a good time, 1912. I was happy that day, I really was. That was when I was living at Miss Minnie White’s place, one of the most beautiful and most elite. I got in almost right after moving down to New Orleans because I could sing so pretty. I was only seventeen in 1912, one of the newest girls at Miss Minnie’s so I did a lot of chores. Not being an octoroon, I wasn’t very popular yet among the customers either. So when the photographer showed up, I was hanging out rugs and ironing curtains. Miss Minnie surely did want to keep her place all clean and shining. He came around to the back, called out he wanted to take a photo or two. Well, I thought it was for the guidebook. You know, the list of everyone’s names and ages and coloring. So when people came to Storyville for a visit, they’d know who to visit for a trick. I wasn’t in the books yet, so I was happy to sit for him and I told him so. He said he wasn’t photographing for the books, just for his own project. That’s what he called it, a project. I was a little nervy at that, but he didn’t want me nude, you know. He showed me other photographs from Storyville, all real classy, most in clothes and just smiling.
Here’s what I got to thinking at first. I was thinking, well Storyville was supposed to help New Orleans. New Orleans had the worst reputation, a city of sin they were calling it. So to make it better, an official called Story, he decided to give the prostitutes and the brothels and the clubs their own little section. They called it Storyville and here we are. So I was thinking, maybe this photographer, maybe he was here to show people what it’s really like here in Storyville. I didn’t even know what it was really like yet, but I thought I could be a part of his project anyways. But when I asked him, he said, no, it was just his own project. He wouldn’t explain any more, just said I could hop on up on the ironing board, right there on the curtain. Leave on my stockings, shoes and everything. And didn’t Nila jump up too. So I scratched her a bit and turned to him to see what kind of pose he wanted me to pull. He said he’d already taken the photo, he’d bring it back along with the other. I didn’t know what other he meant, but a few days later he showed up with the one of me.
It was a good time, 1912. I was happy that day, I really was. That was when I was living at Miss Minnie White’s place, one of the most beautiful and most elite. I got in almost right after moving down to New Orleans because I could sing so pretty. I was only seventeen in 1912, one of the newest girls at Miss Minnie’s so I did a lot of chores. Not being an octoroon, I wasn’t very popular yet among the customers either. So when the photographer showed up, I was hanging out rugs and ironing curtains. Miss Minnie surely did want to keep her place all clean and shining. He came around to the back, called out he wanted to take a photo or two. Well, I thought it was for the guidebook. You know, the list of everyone’s names and ages and coloring. So when people came to Storyville for a visit, they’d know who to visit for a trick. I wasn’t in the books yet, so I was happy to sit for him and I told him so. He said he wasn’t photographing for the books, just for his own project. That’s what he called it, a project. I was a little nervy at that, but he didn’t want me nude, you know. He showed me other photographs from Storyville, all real classy, most in clothes and just smiling.
Here’s what I got to thinking at first. I was thinking, well Storyville was supposed to help New Orleans. New Orleans had the worst reputation, a city of sin they were calling it. So to make it better, an official called Story, he decided to give the prostitutes and the brothels and the clubs their own little section. They called it Storyville and here we are. So I was thinking, maybe this photographer, maybe he was here to show people what it’s really like here in Storyville. I didn’t even know what it was really like yet, but I thought I could be a part of his project anyways. But when I asked him, he said, no, it was just his own project. He wouldn’t explain any more, just said I could hop on up on the ironing board, right there on the curtain. Leave on my stockings, shoes and everything. And didn’t Nila jump up too. So I scratched her a bit and turned to him to see what kind of pose he wanted me to pull. He said he’d already taken the photo, he’d bring it back along with the other. I didn’t know what other he meant, but a few days later he showed up with the one of me.
And I guess he'd taken one of Maggie, too. Hers is more famous, you know. And, well, you can tell who was the more alluring, the better suited to the life here. But I stuck it out at Miss Minnie’s till she closed in 1917. It was a good five years and I kept up my singing and cleaning, cooked and took care of the girls when they were sick. I did my share of dances and tricks, too, but I was never as famous as the other girls. Everyone wanted to lie with the exotic ones. I couldn’t even lie about it like some of the others did. I couldn’t even pass for a third-generation octoroon.
References
Landau, E. (2013). Spectacular wickedness: Sex, race and memory in Storyville, New Orleans. Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana University Press.
Quotes from primary sources informed phraseology and word choice. Descriptions of the various types and of particular establishments created a usable setting.
Masters of Photography: E. J. Bellocq. (n.d.). Retrieved November 28, 2014, from http://www.masters-of-photography.com/B/bellocq/bellocq.html.
Images to include in this webpage as well as information about Bellocq.
Sontag, S. (1996). Introduction. In Bellocq, E. J. Bellocq: Photographs from Storyville, the red-light district of New Orleans. New York, NY: Random House.
Information on Bellocq, his photography and time in New Orleans.
Landau, E. (2013). Spectacular wickedness: Sex, race and memory in Storyville, New Orleans. Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana University Press.
Quotes from primary sources informed phraseology and word choice. Descriptions of the various types and of particular establishments created a usable setting.
Masters of Photography: E. J. Bellocq. (n.d.). Retrieved November 28, 2014, from http://www.masters-of-photography.com/B/bellocq/bellocq.html.
Images to include in this webpage as well as information about Bellocq.
Sontag, S. (1996). Introduction. In Bellocq, E. J. Bellocq: Photographs from Storyville, the red-light district of New Orleans. New York, NY: Random House.
Information on Bellocq, his photography and time in New Orleans.