Drag Dreaming

This past weekend, I was so excited to see one of the best drag shows I have ever watched – the Fabulous Playgirls at Toucan’s Tiki Lounge in Palm Springs. With every performance, I found myself reminiscing on my own performance days. When I left Boston at 24, I never dreamed of putting on a dress and becoming a drag queen, let alone one under the spotlight taking tips and mesmerizing the crowd - but I like to say that I became one by association. 

When I was 24, I was living on the peninsula and before I had a car, I had to rely on CalTrain to get me into the city. Since the last train back was at midnight, I decided to check out the Rawhide II Country and Western bar because it was the closest establishment to the train station. It was the early ‘90s and the country craze was in full swing. The bar was packed and I was instantly hooked.

Perhaps it was fate that I made friends with those whom I dubbed “The Rawhide Elite,” because each of them were the most spectacular and beautiful drag queens that I had ever seen. From their make up to their gowns to their heels, everything about them was spectacular and one Halloween, without much convincing, I joined their ranks. 

Now, although my first foray into heels and wigs was not pretty, you would think I was the most stunning creation on the planet the way I couldn’t stop staring at my reflection. There was no way but up with each dress up and when I entered the San Francisco classic contest “Closet Ball” in 1997, Shanda Leer was born. She stunned the crowd (and her mother) and soaked up the applause, but did not yet dream of performing until one fateful day at a show in the Castro.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing – a drag queen on stage not even in sync with her lyrics. How does someone not know the words to their song, I thought. The insanity of it all and the disappointment of watching forced me from my seat to approach the intimidating hostess. She took one look at me out of drag and deigned to give me but one song to perform the following week.

Then the doubts began to creep in. What have I done? Could I do it? What should I perform? I called my makeup artist extraordinaire and we decided on a song I’d always loved – "Bring on the Men" by Linda Eder. It was sure to not be covered by any of the regular girls in the show and I knew the lyrics in my sleep. When show night arrived, all of my friends had packed the small bar, Harvey’s to the brim and when I took to the stage, Shanda Leer took over as high as her four inch heels could stand. I never missed a lyric and the crowd jumped to their feet with thunderous applause as the hostess and all the regular girls watched in awe.

“Can you do another number,” the fat queen who refused to grant me a second song asked.

 

I looked at the mountain of dollar bills in my hands and in my bra and although I had but the one wig and dress, I took to the stage as the closing act of the night to the tune of “I Will Survive.” It was a scene right out of A Star is Born, and one I will never forget for as long as I live.

So standing in the audience this past weekend, watching as the likes of Delta Work and Morgan McMichaels, both of Rupaul’s Drag Race fame flawlessly performed – I was taken back to those days when the sound of applause echoed in my ears. 

What set me apart from the San Francisco girls, was that I never wanted to make drag my career. I enjoyed becoming Shanda Leer, relished in the illusion she created and reveled in the flawless performance she gave each and every time. Despite the other jealous queens who couldn’t remember their lyrics and backstage would steal my gloves or not speak to me, I had a great time. 

And whenever I watch the spectacular queens of The Fabulous Playgirls and throw money at them, I wish I could thank them personally for performing so flawlessly. I know what goes into their performance – and they never disappoint me. And when the music stops, I don’t have to just remember Shanda Leer as a memory – for the recordings of some of her best shows are always at the ready. To watch her, just ask and this time around, you won’t even have to tip her.