As I said yesterday, I've done Drag a couple of times in my life. Both times, I was pretty embarassed,
because it was something totally foreign to me. And, for lack of a better explanation, it was totally scary.
My first foray, was when I worked at a group home for girls. They knew more about the whole drag thing than I did. And, before they all aged out of the program, they wanted me to drag up. I was mortified. But, I promised I would, on the premise that it would be a one time thing, on Halloween. Luckily, for me, the majority of the staff was female, and helped get me all dolled up.
I don't think I looked that good. The girls loved the look though.. SO, that was the important thing.
The only other time that I've done drag, was for an event called Guys In Gowns. It was a fund raiser for a local business called Youth Promise, that helps to keep kids out of the court system. So, in my mind, it was a great cause. (And I participated in it, only because it was such a good cause...kids from the home I had worked at had worked with the program.)
Guys in Gowns was more scary, as I was performing, for real, in front of an actual audience of people who were there to see "Clown Drag". What I mean by that, is that in years past, (before I actually participated), the drag was meant to be funny. Water balloon boobs, and Bearded Ladies.
I was talked into it by a friend, who had agreed to do a number with me. Unfortunately, for me, there was a drop out, the night before the show. And, in favor of keeping the time roughly the same, they decided that we should separate our acts.
So, instead of doing a duet, I went solo. After an anti-anxiety med, or two. I did my thing, and would have been great, if I hadn't discovered halfway through my number that my mic hadn't been on. I turned it on, and finished singing the rest of the number. In front of my boss, my co-workers, my parents, my boyfriend at the time, and the emcee of the show, Kathleen Shannon, of the local NBC affiliate news station.
I did something right, because I managed to pull a trophy or two out of it. One, just a participation trophy. The other, "Most Glamorous." To be honest, though, I felt far from glamorous. I felt like what I was. A guy, in a dress, wearing high heel boots that were at least two sizes too small, who had socks stuffed in his chest.
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| For my Girls, for Halloween 2007-ish |
My first foray, was when I worked at a group home for girls. They knew more about the whole drag thing than I did. And, before they all aged out of the program, they wanted me to drag up. I was mortified. But, I promised I would, on the premise that it would be a one time thing, on Halloween. Luckily, for me, the majority of the staff was female, and helped get me all dolled up.
I don't think I looked that good. The girls loved the look though.. SO, that was the important thing.
The only other time that I've done drag, was for an event called Guys In Gowns. It was a fund raiser for a local business called Youth Promise, that helps to keep kids out of the court system. So, in my mind, it was a great cause. (And I participated in it, only because it was such a good cause...kids from the home I had worked at had worked with the program.)
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| Guys in Gowns 2011 |
I was talked into it by a friend, who had agreed to do a number with me. Unfortunately, for me, there was a drop out, the night before the show. And, in favor of keeping the time roughly the same, they decided that we should separate our acts.
So, instead of doing a duet, I went solo. After an anti-anxiety med, or two. I did my thing, and would have been great, if I hadn't discovered halfway through my number that my mic hadn't been on. I turned it on, and finished singing the rest of the number. In front of my boss, my co-workers, my parents, my boyfriend at the time, and the emcee of the show, Kathleen Shannon, of the local NBC affiliate news station.
I did something right, because I managed to pull a trophy or two out of it. One, just a participation trophy. The other, "Most Glamorous." To be honest, though, I felt far from glamorous. I felt like what I was. A guy, in a dress, wearing high heel boots that were at least two sizes too small, who had socks stuffed in his chest.
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