Strip club turns gender bender for drag contest
Having never judged a drag contest before, I was struck with preshow jitters. What did I know about drag? Sure, my brother had dressed as a woman that one time for Halloween. But does that qualify as credentials? Plus, what does one wear as a drag-queen judge?
“Maybe a pink shirt?” my wife suggested.
“I don’t have a pink shirt. I used to have a salmon one,” I said.
“Do you have a rainbowcoloured shirt?”
“Pretty sure I don’t,” I said. “I do have a shirt advertising the Faces’ 1973 tour, though. And that
Withnail and I one that says: ‘I demand to have some booze.’ ” “No,” said my wife. The drag contest happened last Sunday night at the Fox Showroom Pub on Douglas Street. The Fox is Victoria’s strip club. There’s only one in town now; the industry has declined in Canada over the past 20 years.
Fox advertised it as “Drag Race — our first ever gender bender.” The contest was open to both sexes. Prizes were $500, $250 and $100. There were 18 contestants. “One round. One chance. Once championship,” the ad said.
The bar was packed. The warmup act for the contest was a female dancer notable for her painful-looking James-Brown style splits. She turned out to be a judge, joining our panel after her stage turn. She was the most vocal among us, yelling, fist-pumping and leaping to her feet at key moments. I mostly clapped politely and once whispered: “Brava.”
Dressed in my most innocuous outfit (cargo shorts, navy shirt) I was seated beside fellow judge Emily. Friendly and chatty, Emily told me she was an exotic dancer for six years. She quit after becoming pregnant.
“I’m 30, but I look way younger,” Emily added. “What’s your secret?” I asked. “Exfoliation,” she said. Emily was excited to be a judge and said she anticipated a night of good fun. At one point, she grabbed the glass of pencils we were using to make notes.
“I almost tried to take a sip of this!” she said. “Good thing you didn’t,” I said. Multi-coloured strobe lights criss-crossed the stage. Labelle’s Lady Marmalade blasted through the sound system. The place smelled like fried food, sweat, beer and the kind of nerves that emanate from worrying about how to dance on six-inch heels.
The audience was dotted with bewigged drag queens in gowns and fishnet stockings, as well as their friends and supporters. One red-headed contestant looked like a guy I knew in Grade 7 (it wasn’t).
“This is a historical, monumental event. Each colour in the rainbow is represented. Contestants, are you ready?” declared MC Donnie Black (a.k.a. Loran Werrun) who wore platform shoes, a shirt with skulls and crossbones, and a giant pimp hat with a faux leopard-skin band.
Eighteen contestants took the stage, one after another. Each danced to a song, usually lipsynched, under a glitter ball, while smoke machines belched faux-fog. Most contestants were men in drag — although there were a few women in masculine outfits.
A couple were cowboys. One, Sir Ryan Rio, sported a beard, spurs and tattoos. She danced to Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) by Big & Rich. The other cowboy yanked a pair of socks through her fly in a most dramatic fashion.
The first contestant was a drag queen called Crystal. He pulled off his wig and dress to reveal short hair, a corset and a blue brassiere. Later, Crystal manipulated a blue hand puppet.
“F --- yeah!” yelled the judge who’d done the James-Brown splits.
Another queen, Robin Wood, had a lot of fake arm and pubic hair. It billowed out like no tomorrow. He could do black flips. Then Alice, a thin fellow in a modest blue dress, cheerfully sashayed to a sexy ballad — and added a few martial-arts moves as well.
“Alice knows kung fu!” yelled Emily.
My favourite was Ada Rawl, whose name is a playful take on the drug Adderall. He walked on stage to European accordion music wearing a giant haystacklike costume that recalled a parade float. Ada flung off the haystack to reveal his white dolllike makeup, a Marilyn Munroe wig and a harlequin-esque costume. At the end of his show, Ada wiggled and one of his electricaltape pasties fell to the stage.
Ada came in second place. The first-prize winner was platinumwigged Vivian Vanderpuss, whose outfit made it appear his body was being overrun by a thick, green vine. Vivian was also notable for gigantic-looking eyes and lips. At one point, he did something rather risqué-looking with what appeared to be either an egg or a white marshmallow.
MC Black says as far as he knows, the Fox is the first strip club in British Columbia to host a drag contest. He hatched the idea four months ago. Apart from having fun, the notion is to demonstrate the club is inclusive.
The words “strip club” and “inclusiveness” don’t necessarily go hand in hand. Yet some of these venues have come far since being havens for male beerswillers and bored dancers. These days, the Fox attracts both men and women to its shows. Somehow, the atmosphere seems healthier and more light-hearted.
Black, who hosted the event with respect and grace (as much as one can while wearing a tiresized furry hat), says he consulted Victoria’s gay/drag community while planning it. When he advertised the contest, there was an outpouring of support from the pride community. That said, some were concerned with how “safe” the Fox would be for a drag contest. Black promised a secure and supportive environment.
This certainly seemed to be in evidence on Sunday night. Near the end of the drag contest, Emily turned toward me and gave me a high five. She said she just loved being a judge. “I sort of feel like God,” she joked, grinning.
I didn’t feel quite that powerful. But it had, overall, been a good evening.