A queen with devil horns, dressed in a rainbow of satin and shimmering gold tulle, sat on a throne along Brooklyn’s Empire Boulevard. Soon, Karen Herbert, 50, would return to being a retired company supervisor.
But on J’ouvert, the daybreak celebration of Caribbean culture traditionally held in Brooklyn before the West Indian American Day Parade, “I am always a queen,” Ms. Herbert declared.
Ms. Herbert, along with other performers, dancers, flag-wavers and musicians, refused to allow the gray weather, or the presence of over 300 light towers and thousands of police officers, to dampen their exuberance.
The roots of J’ouvert lie in mocking slave owners and celebrating emancipation in the Caribbean. Monday’s event showed how the contemporary street-party version of the holiday retains a subversive, liberating edge.
Some revelers, completely covered in motor oil, came to shine. Others came to wine.
For the uninitiated, wining is a butt-shaking, pelvis-rubbing Caribbean dance.
“It’s like one step away from sex,” said Molli Piitcha, 29.
The police presence ramped up after four people were shot and two killed in 2016, and Carey W. Gabay, 43, a lawyer in Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo’s administration, was killed in 2015.
Rupert Hewitt, 74, said some restrictive security measures were necessary, but he also complained about an exaggerated sense of threat.
“We need the police here,” he said. But “one person alone could throw a bottle and cause pandemonium. Then they’ll say, ‘There’s violence in the Caribbean community.’”
Fear of violence seemed far from revelers’ minds on Monday morning. Floats with steel drum bands took center stage, with pranksters and costumed eccentrics acting as a side show.
One man lifted a large jug as if to drench unsuspecting strangers in paint, before revealing the container was empty. Others sprayed passers-by with clouds of baby powder and party string, or dabbed them with paint.
One woman had $100 bills sewn into her bikini cups and a painted handprint on her backside.
Roland Guy, 76, a Vietnam War veteran who said he used to sneak out of Fort Dix, the military base in New Jersey, to go to J’ouvert, was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood.
“It’s comedy,” he said. Mr. Guy was pushing around a stroller that contained a wolf dressed in a flannel shirt and skinny jeans. He had invented a story for his characters. “The wolf fell in love with Little Red Riding Hood,” he said. “They now live in Prospect Park.”
