Many cities have statues of Justice outside their legal buildings, a stoic, upright woman in a toga and blindfold, calmly raising her scales. But in Sin City, she’s a little different: an hourglass figure barely draped in a scarf, whirling the scales of law like she’s going around a stripper pole, blindfold starting to slip down one eye. We call her the Tits of Justice. May they bounce ever in your favor.
The Grohl Miner
A symbol of Nevada’s Silver State/Gold Rush legacy, a kneeling miner sits atop a gift shop at Fremont and Fourth Streets, proudly displaying his pan of nuggets. But look up the next time you cross the street and look up—Wait! That beard, that shaggy hair, that goofy grin—why, it’s multi-platinum rock star Dave Grohl!
The newest addition to the Downtown family is the Pissing Boy, a replica of a famed statue in Belgium of a little kid relieving himself (perhaps your grandma has an ashtray or corkscrew or little tchotchke of him). But don’t get any ideas, people: He’s the only tourist allowed to pee on our streets.
Joan of Arc and the Virgin Mary
The two women outside of the St. Joan of Arc Church on Casino Center Boulevard look a little like sisters but, as with all sisters, there are differences. The Virgin Mary is the quiet one, with demure, downcast eyes in a Botticelli face, gently holding her baby in one blue-draped arm. Joan is the edgy one—sure, she’s wearing a skirt, but she’s also wearing plate armor and looking passers-by straight in the face. Look for her at the next Women’s March.