Coney Island Mermaid Parade 2026

When it became clear to me last summer that I was going to move back to New York from my 5-year sabbatical in D.C., the event I was looking most forward to was Coney Island’s Mermaid Parade.

I didn’t know until I looked up this year’s start time that I almost didn’t get my chance: The nonprofit responsible for the parade, Coney Island USA, burned through their already-low cash reserves earlier this year fighting a much-maligned proposal to bring a casino to the historic seaside town, and was on track to cancel the parade’s 44th iteration. Thankfully, the casino proposal is now dead and Brooklyn Borough President Antonio Reynoso gave the org $20,000 to put toward the parade this year, and pledged to do so every year going forward.

If I’m forced to choose, the Mermaid Parade is my favorite event to photograph for several reasons: the participants are endlessly creative and exuberant; boring corporations are conspicuously absent; and the parade route itself is photogenic, starting on Surf Avenue and ending on the boardwalk which allows ample space for spectators. Despite my love of photographing parades, I really dislike being penned into narrow city streets with thousands of people—some of which inevitably get antsy—so the block-party-like nature of this parade (at least on the boardwalk stretch with the beach and ocean behind you) is about as perfect of a parade setup you can hope for in a city of millions.

I did get annoyed when a pushy parent tried to make me move so their children could get a front-row view after the parade had already begun—something that has happened to me at almost every crowded event I’ve ever been to. I was unmoved by their plea: “It’s a children’s parade, it’s not that deep!” as well as their attempts to get my attention by poking me repeatedly from behind (I know I’m hypersensitive, but I think it’s unforgivable to intentionally touch a stranger without their explicit consent).

I sympathize with small children (I know I benefit from tall-person privilege, but I try my best not to block others’ views), but not for the reasons their parents wanted me to—it is my opinion that if they want their kids to have a good view, they should simply get there earlier and stake out their spot like the rest of us. Or just ask someone else—in a crowd of thousands, I’m sure someone else would’ve been more amenable. I was in place for a full hour before the parade reached us and by the time I arrived most of the best spots were already reserved by people in beach chairs or on blankets. What I always want to tell entitled parents is that their lack of preparation is not actually my problem and that they unfortunately chose the wrong childless crone to ask—it’s not that deep!! (I didn’t say anything, I just ignored them and they moved on).

The Mermaid Parade always takes place at the end of June, and the weather is usually pretty ideal. It can be blazingly hot (or worse, rainy), but this year it was sunny and in the low 80s with low humidity. Best of all, there was a steady, cool breeze proving that God loves us weirdos and supports the creativity, body positivity, gender bending, and copious amounts of glitter on display in Brooklyn’s campiest neighborhood.