I get a huge kick out of drag. It's not my thing personally; if I did drag I'd look like an alcoholic overage version of Nancy Kulp as Miss Jane Hathaway from “The Beverly Hillbillies.” But I admire the drag artists who do it; it takes courage to do it at all, and it takes skill to do it well.
Logo TV, bless its gay little heart, is currently bringing us another season of “RuPaul's Drag Race.” On one level it's just another reality-show competition. On another level it's wonderful. Drag has always been about performance and competition. Cattiness and rivalry are endemic to the drag community, so there's no need for the producers to inject drama into the show; the players bring it with them. And there's little or no real malice or bad feeling here. New York Magazine this week noted that this is just about the only reality-show competition with likeable contestants. The judges don’t pull any punches, but they don't mock the contestants; they mostly point out presentation flaws. They do it wittily and pointedly, but – hey – that’s part of the drag scene. If your dress isn't hemmed correctly, if your wig isn't right: hey, girl, watch out!
I used to think that drag was bad advertising for the gay community. It implied that we weren't serious. I've come to realize that the drag community is sort of like our Knights of Columbus lodge. Drag queens, and the Knights of Columbus, put on parades and socials; they host charity bingo events; they get to wear bizarrely colorful outfits and gigantic feathered hats.
In both cases, it's performance art about being openly and proudly different in a hostile and indifferent world.
As Lady Bunny, a guest judge at last year’s “Drag U.”, said so memorably: “Honey, I always envied my older sister when I was a kid. And now here I am, famous, and my sister's in a mental institution. So that just goes to show you.”
Amen, sister.
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