New Orleans Convention Center Bag Policy

So, You Want to Bring a Bag to the New Orleans Convention Center?

Let’s be real: the New Orleans Convention Center is a beast. It’s roughly the size of a small European principality, and it hosts everything from comic book blowouts to massive medical conferences. But before you waltz in with your trusty Jansport, you need to know one thing: the bag policy is not a suggestion. It’s carved into the stone of this Big Easy temple by very serious security wizards.

Your go-to “huge beach tote” that smells faintly of po’ boys and beads? Nope. That’s the enemy of entry. The official word, which the NOLA convention center website delivers with the dramatic flair of a Voldemort decree, is that bags larger than 12” x 6” x 12” are strictly forbidden. That’s roughly the size of a shoebox, or a very chunky cat. If your bag is bigger than that, you’re not getting in unless you have a really compelling medical excuse—and even then, you’ll be patted down by a security pro who has been trained to smell your fear.

Why, you ask, are they so anti-bag? It’s because of an NFL-sized paranoia left over from the Super Bowl. Ever since that big game rolled into town, the convention center adopted a “clear bag” aesthetic that would make a see-through jellyfish jealous. You can’t even dream of a murky, mysterious duffel bag. They want clarity in your Tote Game. That’s not a joke—it’s the new law of the land, enforced by polite but heavily armed Louisianans who’ve seen your Mardi Gras shenanigans.

So, what can you bring? A clear plastic, vinyl, or PVC bag that doesn’t exceed that 12-inch shoebox size. Alternatively, you can rock a one-gallon Ziploc freezer bag. Yes, the same bag you’d use to store leftover gumbo. It’s fashionably functional, and by “functional” I mean “the guards will smile at you instead of sighing.” Don’t bother trying a clutch that looks like a hand grenade, either—that’s a triple-check moment.

Surprising fact: the convention center’s policy is actually one of the loosest in the country for major venues. In some cities, they’ll make you check your dignity at the door. Here, you can still bring a small camera, a phone charger, and an emergency pack of Zapp’s potato chips, as long as the bag is transparent. But do not, I repeat, do not try to smuggle in a full bottle of Hand Grenade from Bourbon Street. Security dogs will find it. They have a nose for bad decisions.

New Orleans Ernest N. Morial Convention Center

Here’s the kicker: they don’t offer free bag check—because that would require a warehouse the size of a 747 hangar. You’ll have to stash your “Everything and the Kitchen Sink” bag in your hotel room or paying a roaming bag-mule. I once saw a guy try to tie a garbage bag to a parking meter outside; it was gone in ten minutes. That’s New Orleans for you.

So, my friend, pack light. Pack transparent. Pack with the knowledge that you are entering a post-9/11, post-Katrina, post-Super Bowl security wonderland. If you follow the rules, you’ll breeze through the metal detectors, grab a $12 beer, and stand in awe of the convention center’s vast emptiness. Just leave the giant tote bag at home. Your back will thank you, and so will the nice lady in the blue uniform who doesn’t want to wrestle your luggage.