Glittering pride
More than 26 years after The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert was released, FABalice brings drag royalty back to Alice Springs for a long weekend of cabaret, rainbows and glittering pride.
Alice Springs honours Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, with a new event.
WHEN MITZI, FELICIA and Bernadette drove a big silverturned-pink bus through the Australian outback towards Alice Springs’ Lasseters Hotel Casino Resort in the 1994 movie The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, noone could have known the iconic status it would hold. Now, Priscilla’s legacy lives on at FABalice, a rainbow festival inspired by the movie that had everyone’s lipsticked lips celebrating the raw glitz and glamour of Australian drag.
After a week travelling through the Northern Territory’s Red Centre, I arrive in Alice Springs late Thursday evening. The bus that’s brought me here is a far cry from the glamorous Priscilla, but a fitting start to a weekend that proves “a cock in a frock on a rock” is exactly what this country needs.
A breeze whispers through the air, its warmth forcing the hairs on my arms to stand and then quickly flatten as beads of sweat trail their way over my skin. It’s my first time in the Aussie outback town and I’m astonished by the multifariousness of it all – culturally, geologically and environmentally. On one side, the MacDonnell Ranges stand tall and exposed, and on the other, small buildings hug the banks of the Todd River. The township looks like any other in regional Australia, and yet there’s an eccentricity I can’t quite put my finger on. The Todd River runs dry through the town, but today puddles of water offer respite to its consistently parched sands, thanks to a rare light showering of rain.
When the harsh sun rises on Friday morning and the tenacious flies start to wake for their daily routine of professional irritations, I navigate my way to the Alice Springs Airport for the FABalice Welcome.
The airport is small, as you’d expect of an outback town, and yet today it takes on an air of extravagance. Rainbow banners and twinkling lights bedazzle the baggage carousel. DJ Clitterally spins her set while expertly flicking her hair as if she’s just stepped off the set of a shampoo commercial, while Marzi Panne and Miss Ellaneous sway their hips and snap photos against the rainbow backdrop. Dressed in a pink dress and blond wig, Teresa Cumnsaw leans against a maroon Bufori Madison; she looks like she was born for the spotlight but is also a little unsure of the part she plays. My eyes are conflicted between the sultry stares of Clitterally and the bashfulness of Teresa.
“I’m new to this,” Teresa tells me, about her journey to becoming a queen. “In 2016 I dressed up for a friend’s 30th. Then FABalice launched in 2019, and I would watch Clitterally do her makeup for different events, and that’s when it all started.
“It was a slow process for me. It wasn’t really until September last year that I started to embrace drag. Clitterally just started dressing me up and doing my makeup. She’s taught me a lot, like how to dress, how to do my makeup. She’s my biggest supporter.”
This support network, I learn, is the hairspray that holds FABalice together.
Between spins, Clitterally, who is originally from Bendigo, Victoria, shares her progression into drag.
“I got approached in Alice Springs by a local bar to host Drag Queen Bingo,” she says. “That was just over 12 months ago now. I’m also very new to it all.
“I’m still a baby drag queen; I’ve got heaps to learn, but being surrounded by all these other amazing drag queens at FABalice, I’ve been picking their brains and learning how to do things.”
WE’RE INTERRUPTED BY the airport’s speakers and suddenly a swarm of people are approaching the baggage carousel after their three-hour flight from Sydney.
They walk towards the colourful display, eyes to the floor and yet unknowingly bopping along to the beat of Calvin Harris. But even their apprehension can’t stop the glitter contagion of FABalice, and, like magical pixie dust, the queens’ lipstick grins catch on and the closer the passengers walk, the bigger their smiles become.
By the time Friday night rolls around, the fabulousness of the weekend has caught on and people arrive in droves at the Alice Springs Convention Centre for the Priscilla Show, the extravagant opening of the Drag Crawl. Colourful wigs, fairy wings and flamboyant outfits decorate the otherwise corporate entrance. A rainbow arch leads to the outdoor amphitheatre where the moon and stars sparkle overhead as if they too were planned decorations.
Gay Roberto’s DJ tunes dampen the chatter of the crowd. Marzi Panne and Miss Ellaneous take to the stage and capture the audience’s attention with their costumes alone. Their flight attendant skit, followed by the show-stealing antics of Freddie Merkin, a drag king, sends me and the rest of the crowd into fits of laughter.
A distinct laugh turns my attention away from the stage. Behind me, a beautiful woman in wide leg pants and a high blond ponytail stares, fixated on the stage.
I recognise her immediately. At 76 years of age, Carlotta still out-glamours most and I’m instantly drawn to her confidence and eccentricities.
The alleged inspiration behind The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, and the star of former Sydney-based male revue Les Girls, takes to the stage at the night’s second venue, the Star of Alice, alongside famed performer Trevor Ashley. Dressed in a glitzy silver-sequinned gown and white feather boa, Carlotta has the crowd both in stitches and stunned as crude jokes fill the space between her singing performances. She struggles across the grassed arena in stilettos, and suddenly eyes avert their attention from her shimmering dress to the ground, everyone hoping they’re not the chosen subject of her next roasting.
“I looked like a heifer,” she tells me later, laughing off her clumsy attempt to interact with the crowd.
It’s hard not to be entranced by the tenacity of a woman who can make even the rudest and crudest jokes seem endearing, and after tonight there’s an extra twinkle in my admiration for her.
The Drag Crawl ends at Monte’s Lounge, and the crowd seems to have shifted gears into party mode. Cabaret performances by Clitterally, Teresa Cumnsaw, Chocolate Boxx and Drag Territory, among others, get the audience on their feet and quickly turns the floor show into a dance party.
As I cart my weary body back to my room, glitter is already scattered across most of the footpaths throughout Alice Springs, and it’s almost as if the ground beneath my feet is mirroring the clear, starry sky. And it’s only the first night.
ALICE SPRINGS’ MELTING POT of diversity takes centre stage on Saturday. Rainbow chalk, carefully crafted by children and families, artfully adds colour to the town’s Todd Mall, laying the metaphorical rainbow carpet for the afternoon’s FABalice pageant. Floats start to make their way down the mall. This is like Mardi Gras in the Aussie outback and the streets are filled with the sounds of people cheering, music blasting, and inquisitive questions, leading the way to the family-friendly Drag Races.
“FABalice does a really good job of visibility and drag culture,” Clitterally prompts, as we watch bystanders join in the racing fun. “Especially since we’re doing all these family events, which show drag queens aren’t just over-sexualised, 18-plus red light shows. They are actually for everybody.
“All I want to do is make people happy. All those kids over there, they’re looking and coming up to us and saying ‘Oh my god you’re so beautiful’ and all they see is this big, big, big emphasis on big, beautiful, strong, independent women... But I just love that everyone is amazed by all the glitter, and the big hair.”
I contemplate joining the race, but the exhaustion, caused by a combination of walking, heat and a late Friday night, is getting the better of me and I realise I don’t have the party stamina I used to. “How do you do it?” I ask Teresa, who is quickly becoming my go-to party pal. “Practice,” she says, “and lots of alcohol.”
I hear her advice but opt for an afternoon snooze in the aircon instead. There’s a big Saturday night ahead, the first of the festivities
being the Ex-DRAG-Vaganza. Held at the spectacular venue The Old Quarry, it’s the highlight event for most of the performers.
A silhouette of exposed red quartzite is lit up by rainbow lights, and stands as a reminder of where we are. The shade of the night offers respite from the scorching sun and the relentless buzzing of flies, both notorious legacies of Australia’s Red Centre.
The timber dance floors of Friday night and the chalky pavement of earlier today are now replaced with dusty red dirt. The Old Quarry feels miles away from town, and more reminiscent of Burning Man than Mardi Gras. Costumes, lycra, tulle and streamers dominate the crowd, contortionists bend their way through a cage and heads sway to the pounding beats selected by DJ Cunningpants. Chocolate Boxx does the splits on stage and Freddie Merkin again sends the crowds into tittering messes.
It’s a f itting pre-show to the magnum opus of FABalice – Throb on Todd’s Midnight Show. I decide to beat the bus crowds travelling from The Old Quarry and arrive at the Alice Springs Convention Centre early enough to not have to join a queue. I haven’t lined up for a nightclub since my early 20s.
Inside, the Convention Centre has transformed from the rainbow splash the night before. Blackened walls, glitter disco balls and curtained booths lay the way for a night of fun. Teresa, now out of costume, taps me on the shoulder as I inspect the table decorations. “It’s me, Teresa…or Terry,” he tells me, with an embrace. He invites me over to where his entourage is sitting, and one by one I’m introduced to his family and friends. His sister is noticeably beaming with pride at Teresa’s performances during the weekend.
In just two days, I’ve noticed the transformation of Teresa, from the shy woman blending into the background at the airport to the confident performer who took to the stage at Monte’s Lounge. I ask Terry what he thinks FABalice does for the community he grew up in.
“[It gets] the community to be more accepting, bringing the conversation of drag to the surface rather than trying to hide. [It’s an opportunity] to come out and feel like you’re just yourself and you don’t need to hide,” he says.
As I sit by the pool on the final day of FABalice, I reflect on last night’s conversation with Terry about the value of an event like this in a town like Alice.
It’s so much more than just entertainment. It’s an opportunity for people to let their hair down and celebrate the love, pride and glittering community spirit of Alice Springs. Sure, the festival may be inspired by The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, but it’s also a showcase of just how far it has come since the movie was released.