Queer Is A Tender Feeling: Researching Drag & Queer Expression


Abbreviations

RPDR - RuPaul’s Drag Race 

AFAB - Assigned Female at Birth


Drag performance has greatly entered mainstream culture in recent years through the emergence of the reality TV show RuPaul’s Drag Race, which first aired in the US in 2009. I chose to do my dissertation on contemporary drag performance by creating a short documentary, featuring interviews with six drag artists whose performance experience ranged from zero to six years. The film explores ideas around gender identity, queer politics and community, and how this links in with drag. This essay explores points that came up in research and discussion with the artists, looking closely at some of the details of drag and gender expression.

Aside from being non-binary myself, much of my understanding of gender is closely linked to queer theorist Judith Butler’s theory of gender performativity, which states that gender is our learned expressions and behaviours rather than something we are inherently; it is what we do, not what we are (Barker & Scheele, 2016, p.79). This theory relates greatly to drag performance, as often drag will be seen as a performance of gender; one that usually differs from the performer’s own. Drag is the doing of another gender, though this may differ depending who you ask. In describing drag in the documentary Paris Is Burning (1990), Butler stated, ‘In imitating gender, drag implicitly reveals the imitative structure of gender itself’ (Walsh, 2009, p.57). 

The questions that elicited some of the most interesting responses for me were those focused on gender identity. All but one of the performers I interviewed, including those who responded to questions by email, identify themselves as non-binary. One thing that arose in several interviews was the erasure of drag kings. This related to a concept I came across in my initial research called ‘androcentrism’, which became a talking point with several interviewees. Western androcentrism is the idea that male dress, presentation and behaviour are the ideal or the norm, and are therefore invisible. Thus, people dressing or presenting in more feminine-coded ways are immediately more notable, whereas people who present as masculine can fly more easily under the radar (Heller, 2020, p.29). Drag kings are thus less visible in the drag scene, and are usually offered fewer opportunities than queens. In my interview with YuGiHoe, she mentioned how RPDR tends to fall into misogynistic tropes of finding drag queens funny purely because they are imitating female bodies. This idea that drag is about imitating female-ness purely because it is funny is quite reductive and paints an inaccurate picture of drag as an art form. In The Second Sex (1949) theorist Simone de Beauvoir asks the question ‘what is a woman?’, before going on to say ‘It would never occur to a man to write a book on a singular situation of males in humanity’ (De Beauvoir, 2011, p.20). RPDR calls into question and dissects the presentation of women, yet it seems De Beauvoir’s statement holds true as RuPaul insists on excluding drag kings and their questioning of maleness and masculinity. RPDR also buys into androcentric tropes by excluding drag kings and AFAB artists. RuPaul is repeatedly quoted for saying ‘Drag loses its sense of danger and its sense of irony once it’s not men doing it’ (Cuby, 2018). The idea that men doing drag is the only way it can be ironic or political is misogynistic, especially as the over-glamorising of drag can in many ways perpetuate the female beauty standard that women have been held to for so long. 

In one episode of RPDR, drag queen Milan was criticised for looking like a man in a challenge that involved dressing up as a celebrity. Milan was dressed as non-binary singer and actor Janelle Monae (Brennan, 2017, p.36), who often dresses in more masculine-coded outfits. While the show supposedly strives for authenticity in the impersonation of women, its idea of ‘woman’ is outdated and subscribes to a hyper-feminine and glamorous ideal, hence the exclusion of drag kings and AFAB performers from the show. Academic Jack Halberstam argues that male femininity is something celebrated amongst homosocial cultures, while female masculinity is seen as a futile attempt to have power that is forever out of reach (1998, p.9). Seeing women and non-binary people performing in drag and performing that power is just as political than men in drag, if not more so. Drag kinging is also a place that offers a celebration of female masculinity, away from its invisibility in androcentric societies. 

In a short documentary by Still Watching Netflix, drag artist Cheddar Gorgeous described how drag performers are held up and expected to be perfect images of beauty and the beauty industry. 

For me the real magic of drag is the disruption of the very idea that something, or one particular look, is beautiful. I always say the most magical thing about drag is taking it off […] You as an audience member understand that there is another me behind this. […] You know that […] whilst it is utterly a truthful expression of something that I am feeling, it is ultimately fake. […] And if you know that I […] can be given praise for looking either, whether it’s spectacularly beautiful or weird or ugly or strange, then you know that none of that stuff really matters
— (2021, 16:03)

This upholding of beauty standards is something that is disrupted greatly in drag scenes outside of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Drag queen, writer and filmmaker Amrou Al-Kadhi has written several articles criticising RuPaul, including one in the independent in which they mention non-binary drag artist Victoria Sin as an example of why AFAB queens are just as radical and important. They wrote:

Victoria’s drag far surpasses the aesthetic capabilities of many RuPaul contestants, and fiercely challenges the way we culturally understand femininity. When Victoria is in drag, their aim is to unapologetically take up the space around them – simply drinking a glass of milk on stage, or slowly buttering bread in a deadpan routine, demanding that we just watch them in all their glory. Their politics is to show that the daily labours of femininity expected of female bodies are invisible – they make this unmistakably visible by being in drag.
— Amrou Al-Kadhi (2018)

The aesthetics of RPDR are alienating to the majority of women, as well as non-binary people and other drag performers. Drag has never been about striving for perfection. It can be messy like any other art form, and with its political capabilities of reshaping and redefining gender and beauty standards the aim should not be to conform to any kind of societal ideal. Drag in its non-corporate form is about community. It offers a space for performers to be who they want to be on stage, but also invites the audience to be whomever they wish to be in that space. Drag offers safety in expressing things through different means to what we might be used to, which can be transformative for both performer and audience. It also reveals things about society that may often go unmentioned or unnoticed. However, like any other art form, it is important that those who pursue it do so with care and consideration for those around them. Drag artists are not exempt from being problematic, and as artists who move mostly within marginalised communities it is important to make sure that everyone there feels seen and heard. 

Drag offers a place of exploration through theatricality and characterisation. In her book Queering Drag, scholar Meredith Heller writes:

Butler notes a distinction between how a gender-bending stage performer “can compel pleasure and applause” and how a trans or gender-nonconforming person “on the seat next to us on the bus can compel fear, rage, even violence.
— Meredith Heller (2020, p.22)

Several interviewees also spoke about how drag and gender-bending can feel more appropriate or safe in the context of performance. Drag king Len Blanco said he felt that the performativity of drag gave him permission to perform masculine qualities that he usually found embarrassing, yet also made him feel euphoric. Drag king BooHoo Mann stated that he enjoyed being able to explore masculine qualities in the context of performance that he would otherwise feel uncomfortable with. This suggests that the safety of theatricality can make it easier to explore gendered traits that one might be too afraid to explore in ‘real’ life, and can therefore be somewhat therapeutic. 

Amrou Al-Kadhi grew up in a strict Muslim family as a gay, non-binary person, and their identity was the cause of great shame throughout their teenage years (2020). In an article in The Guardian, they said:

Drag mirrors the key philosophy of CBT therapy […]: the repeated act of manifesting positive beliefs starts to unshackle the negative ones that tied me down. A decade of performing to audiences in the guise of a Middle Eastern goddess has taken me from fears of burning to rejoicing in the knowledge that I’m a girl on fire.
— (Al-Kadhi, 2019)

This carried over into my own personal exploration of drag, as the positive reinforcement I experienced from the people around me helped me feel comfortable in masculine presentation. I shaded my moustache with eye shadow and received so many compliments on how it looked, that for the first time in ten years I stopped bleaching the hair on my upper lip.

Drag has the potential to be therapeutic for several different reasons, most being gender-affirming, such as the examples given above. As mentioned in the introduction, I also wanted to know whether drag could be used as a vehicle for gaining confidence both personally and as a performer. Performance artist Diane Torr used to run Man for a Day workshops in New York, in which women would drag up and walk around town aiming to pass as men. Many of the women who took part in these workshops found it a transformative experience. Through exploring what it felt like to walk around as men, they were able to observe the power structures that gender upholds in society from a different perspective. Participants would often report back saying they had gained newfound confidence by asking themselves what their male persona would do in certain situations, and finding themselves responding with much more confidence. Drag gave them the ability to imagine and embody more confident versions of themselves (Torr & Bottoms, 2010). 

This research has fleshed out my understanding of drag as an art form. As silly and entertaining as it is, there is much more to it than just dressing up for fun. Drag highlights the performativity of gender, a living example of Butler’s theory of performativity. It has the ability to deconstruct gender, beauty standards and societal power structures through a format that is entertaining and accessible. It asks the audience to simultaneously believe and disbelieve in it, knowing that we are being shown something that is ultimately fake, yet still a true expression of something the performer is feeling. It offers a place of exploration and liberation, not just for the performers, but also for those who are observing. As drag artist Mother said, for someone going into a queer space and feeling in some way insecure about themselves, seeing a drag performer being outrageous on stage can be incredibly relieving and liberating. Sometimes drag asks an audience to celebrate something they have been conditioned to disapprove of, and within that celebration, the performer may also be deconstructing their own conditioning and beliefs. The project, despite an uncertain start, most certainly met its aims. I have learned more than I expected, both about the art form and about myself. The creation of this film has helped me find joy in my identity and in celebrating drag in all its forms.


Bibliography

Al-Kadhi, A. (2018) 'No, RuPaul, the drag queen world does not only belong to men - everyone can explore femininity', The Independent, 4 March. Available at: https://www.independent.co.uk/voices/rupaul-drag-race-transgender-guardian-interview-gender-identity-patriarchy-a8239041.html (Accessed: 30 January 2022).

Al-Kadhi, A. (2019) ‘ Being a drag queen healed me’, The Guardian, 20 October. Available at: ​​https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2019/oct/20/amrou-al-kadhi-being-a-drag-queen-healed-me (Accessed: 25 April 2022).

Al-Kadhi, A. (2020) Life As A Unicorn. London: 4th Estate.

Barker, M.J. and Scheele, J. (2016) Queer: A Graphic History. England: Icon Books. 

Brennan, N. and Gudelunas, D. (ed.) (2017) RuPauls' Drag Race and the Shifting Visibility of Drag Culture. Palgrave Macmillan. 

Cuby, M. (2018) 'These Trans and Cis Female Drag Queens Have Some WORDS for RuPaul', Them, March 6. Available at: https://www.them.us/story/these-queens-have-some-words-for-rupaul (Accessed: 28 April 2022).

De Beauvoir, S. (2011) The Second Sex. New Edition. London: Vintage Books. 

Halberstam, J. (1998) Female Masculinity. Durham and London: Duke University Press.

Heller, M. (2020) Queering Drag: redefining the discourse of gender-bending. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.

Paris Is Burning (1990) Directed by J. Livingston [Documentary film]. New York: Miramax.

RuPaul's Drag Race (2009-present) World of Wonder. Available at: Netflix.

Still Watching Netflix (2021) Inside the UK's Rapidly Changing Drag Culture | Documentary. 29 December. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MddilSDv7Po (Accessed: 27 April 2022).

Torr, D. and Bottoms, S. (2010) Sex, Drag and Male Roles. Michigan: The University of Michigan Press. 

Walsh, F. (2009) 'Touching, Feeling, Cross-Dressing: On The Affectivity of Queer Performance. Or, What Makes Panti Fabulous', in Cregan, D. (ed.) Deviant Acts: Essays on Queer Performance. Dublin: Carysfort Press, pp.55-71.


Media 

Eryn McDonald (2022) Queer Is A Tender Feeling | Trailer. 15 June. Available at: https://youtu.be/HYk5FuL7zWI (Accessed: 15 June 2022).

Still Watching Netflix (2021) Inside the UK's Rapidly Changing Drag Culture | Documentary. 29 December. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MddilSDv7Po (Accessed: 27 April 2022).

Define Gender: Victoria Sin (2017) Directed by Amrou Al-Kadhi [Short film]. Nowness. Available at: https://www.nowness.com/series/define-gender/victoria-sin-drag-amrou-al-kadhi (Accessed: 28 April 2022).

Len Blanco (2020) Len Blanco: The Making of Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby. No date. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Em-Ak8JU6iA (Accessed: 15 June 2022).


Erin Green

Dance and Drama Undergraduate.

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