most times the words "drag queen" have been used. ever. for any reason and under any circumstance.
c.l., j.f. and i went to the high heel drag queen race in dupont on tuesday night. its a sort of mini-mardi gras that people line up for hours before the actual race. crazy, cold people like us who got there at 5:30 thinking it started at 8pm, when really, it didnt start until 9pm. we had 3.5 hours to wait outside on the sidewalk in weather inappropriate clothes. thankfully we had gin and tonics to keep us warm.
drag queens make frequent appearances in my blog, and frankly, im not sure what that says about me, but i will admit we have a love hate relationship, the queens and i. first of all, they make better women than women do. few women can actually walk in the shoes drag queens wear and few women would take the time or effort to spend hours on hair and makeup like drag queens do. drag queens are a caricature of what is believed to be the feminine ideal and apparently, it takes a man to do a woman's job.
shortly after moving to new orleans i went to the french quarter for the first time and crossed what i later found out to be the "lavender line" which separates the gay quarter from the straight quarter. at the time, i had no idea what i was getting into - you see that particular weekend was not any old weekend, it was southern decadence which is like a gay only mardi gras. its a big gay parade catering to hundreds of thousands of mostly gay men who come to town for a week of debauchery, and much like vegas, what happens during southern decadence stays in new orleans.
walking around the gay quarter that night, i got a lot of attention; and, in retrospect, i brought it on myself. however, i was very young, very naive, and had no idea what i was walking into. lets just say, if you dont want to be noticed by gay men and drag queens, dont walk into a party wearing a floor length, white, laura ashley, spaghetti strapped dress, with giant red roses on it. this was possibly the campiest outfit ever worn during southern decadence, and was done completely unintentionally. i had gay men literally lining up offering to buy my dress off of me. in all earnestness, it was a fabulous dress, and should i ever meet the son of an oil barron named tower brickland wellington III, and be invited to his plantation for tea with his mama, i will know exactly what to wear. i imagine he will be in a tom wolfe style white seersucker suit and straw hat and a dainty couple we will make.
however, for an 18 year old college co-ed? not so much. i refused several offers to buy my dress (mostly because it would have left me naked - not that anyone would have noticed) and tried to keep some dignity in tact. which failed as an m.o. after dozens of tourists complimented me as the most realistic drag queen they had ever seen. eventually, i was saved by a gorgeous, outlandish 7 foot queen who chased the tourists away from me and said these fateful words "honey: if they're mistaking you for a drag queen, it just means you know how to do your makeup!"
so, this rather long aside is to say: drag queens and i have a past.
fortunately no one mistook me for a man dressed as a woman tuesday night, which is really all i was hoping for. i did have to ask j.f. if mugging a drag queen for her shoes would be considered a "hate crime" to which he responded "it would be an understandable crime of passion!" and gave me his blessings to go on my merry stealingway. van nasty legal counsel, however, has said otherwise. r.c. implied on saturday night that stating my intent to rob someone for her shoes negates the whole "crime of passion" plea. to which i say: "r.c.! you didnt see these shoes!"