RuPaul is like the Oprah of the gays, just more fabulous. He makes it seem like anything is possible with a little self-love.
That is, everything but be a woman, trans and/or gender non-conforming person in drag.
Even as traditional drag becomes more mainstream, it remains synonymous with cisgender men as the only stars. “Drag loses its sense of danger and its sense of irony once it’s not men doing it,” Ru himself said in an interview with The Guardian where he confessed he “probably” wouldn’t accept a trans contestant if they had started their physical transition.
After mounting public pressure, Ru stood back on his stance, welcoming season six queen and trans women Gia Gunn back for the fourth season of 'Drag Race All Stars'.
In Sydney, cis-male drag queens are like giant celebrities towering over everyone on Oxford Street. In the most popular gay clubs though, it seems that these are the only types of ‘women’ that are acceptable.
I often felt unwelcome and seen as the ‘fag hag’ of the group - and that was out of drag.
I wanted to be a part of the scene but visibility of gender diverse queens is so low I didn’t even know they existed. So how is it possible then that I am an assigned female at birth (AFAB) and a fierce drag queen?
Finding a community
Instagram was monumental in shaping my identity in drag. It’s where I discovered Sydney AFAB queen Tayla Mac unapologetically serving incredible looks and London-based, non-binary queen Victoria Sin critiquing both traditional drag and gender.
It was then I realised the misogyny in only allowing men to perform exaggerated femininity where women often become the butt of the joke.
An example of this overlooked, ingrained misogyny is the slang term ‘fishy’ - aka, a cis-male drag queen that can convincingly pass as a woman. The aquatic reference is a nod to an atrocious stereotype of the smell of a woman’s vagina.
There’s also a trend of calling non-male drag ‘faux-drag’ - as if we’re imposters in our own artform.
Any drag scene that doesn’t embrace women, gender non-conforming and trans folk is missing out on the colour and creativity they bring to an artform that they helped create.
Modern drag is so much more than just gender bending. “Drag is gender clowning, and your gender comes from between your ears, not between your legs,” says Melbourne AFAB burlesque and drag performer Ruby Slippers.
I believe it’s your personal illusion, whether that be as a woman or otherworldly creature.
I’ve been lucky to be embraced by such a supportive queer community in Sydney where just about anything goes.
Alternative parties like Honcho Disko, Heaps Gay, The Oyster Club and Rule 34 (where I’ve performed as Pauline Hanson and a drug-hazed sloth!) provide a much needed space for women, trans and non-binary performers to hone and explore their craft.
Outside of this community is where I receive the most confusion about the validity of my art, because women can’t do drag, right?
Ultimately, my drag is a big fuck you to patriarchal structures that don’t want me to take up space and police my bodily autonomy and creative expression.
My hope is that everyone, regardless of gender, tries drag once. Not just to discover how fun it is but to realise that gender and beauty structures are ours for the taking, deconstructing and destroying.
