A Huggie isn’t Just a Diaper in NOLA

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Growing up, we called those things that keep your beer chilled “huggies.” When I moved out of state for school, my new friends called them “koozies.” To me and my family, they will always be huggies. I have an odd fascination with huggies (not unlike my fetish with coasters–hey, they are both drink related. Weird.) and have many in my pantry.

I have some for bottles, more for cans; some that can lay flat (my grandfather prefers these because he can tuck one into his pocket and take it to the casino with him); some with competing attorneys’ logos (what a smart idea they have!). I have one with a Saints logo that I bought from the hardware store where I held my first job. This one has a cup insert that’s kinda cool:

The first week I was practicing law I was brought in to assist in estate planning for folks that had just won over $10,000,000. I was requested to take “copious notes,” and I got this huggie as a souvenir from the clients:

Then there is my “floozie koozie,” that’s its marketed name. I gave these out to friends that came in for Mardi Gras a few years ago. Feathers, dangly beads, leopard print and all:

My latest addition is this little gem from Princess Penelope (that “S” is for Sarcastic, of course):

So, what brought on this post? Well, Mardi Gras, of course. With friends coming in next week, I am in prep-mode. And one item on that list is my Mardi Gras huggie, because you need your hands free to catch beads:

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