DRAG!

Saturday night (July 11^th) and I find myself at the Sydney Opera House to see my first ever drag show. Though there are two other male students on this trip, neither of them felt like attending this function for whatever reasons. So it is that I stand beside Carmen, Jenna, Dannielle, and Jenny with beverage in hand as I scan the crowd waiting for the theater doors to open. We have come for the opening gala and through my skills of observation I would venture to say that I was one out of maybe ten straight men present.

As a member of society never before exposed to drag shows, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect other then some men dressed up in women’s closing. Let me tell you, it sure is more than that. Now given, this was at the Sydney Opera House and they explained that they had scoured Sydney for the cream of the crop, as far as drag shows go, so this was meant to be the tip-top of the drag show spectrum. In a word . . . FABULOUS! Just a side note, the dress attire requested for this show was, and I kid you not, glitter.

It really does mess with your mind from time to time when some of the performers mount that stage in their glamerous costumes and you think to yourself, “Boy, that gal has some pretty well defined muscles . . . hey wait a minute, that’s a MAN . . . why do I find him attractive . . . Oh gosh, am I gay?” And so it is that the drag show is meant to mess with your mind, and it does . . . a lot. However, in between such acts of confusion there sprinklings of pure hilarity in the form of what I will term ‘Over Drag’ meaning simply an over-the-top form of drag in which the performers are not dressing up as a seductive figure but rather a grotesque and poor excuse for a female. ‘Over Drag’ comes in many forms: trashy, old, obese, circus clown-esque, and just down right ugly. Whichever form it takes, it’s awesomely laughter inducing and also provides a period of time for your mind to recover between gender bending confusion.

Overall, I must say DRAG! gets two big thumbs up from me. I can’t wait to go to another. Certain songs like “My Milkshakes Bring All the Boys to the Yard” will never be the same for me, but I believe they’ve been upgraded in that sense. And hey, all the girls I went with gave me mad props for enduring the experience with such frivolity.