Here’s some quick facts about me: I’m a queer girl, I spent the last two years in Europe, I’ve never been to a drag show and I’m also very Indian. Now, if you live under a rock (or are painfully straight) a drag show is when people impersonate men or women (usually the opposite gender) in performance. Think loud make up, sparkling dresses, a lot of innuendos and raunchy music. People lip sync, dance, sing, anything they want (I guess you could think of Tom Holland’s performance of ‘Umbrella’ as drag in pop culture – look that up if you haven’t seen it, it slaps).
As someone who’s spent a majority of their life in Asia, I know that the “gay scene” is a bit more underground. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not hidden, it’s just a bit exclusive (gatekeeping is not uncommon in communities with long histories of discrimination, it’s a safety precaution) . You have to know the right people, but once you’re in, you’re in. All of a sudden, you feel welcome. You know you’re not judged, you don’t have to tell small lies, and everyone’s funny. The thing is, you’re not going to stumble upon this through gay bars or your one gay friend. It takes time. Imagine my surprise when I found one in the first week of August, which happened to be my first week in Singapore, in a Hard Rock Cafe (so very mainstream). I was surprised because I don’t know this country, or continent, to be so open and accepting of this culture; and here’s the thing about drag shows, they’re very high on the checklist of gay culture. It screams “I’m edgy” for queer people and allies alike.
So of course, I had to go.
The experience
I walked into the opening act by Becca D’bus, the MC for the night. She was the first drag queen I’d seen up close and absolutely magnificent. She introduced performers, walked around talking to the crowd and made horrible, horrible jokes. I, like most Asians, was skeptical of the quality of overly sexual jokes; unfortunately, the first few did not land. It felt brash for the sake of being risque instead of just a good joke. Luckily, her showmanship and charisma did have me laughing in my seat (and the jokes got better).
The show was a mix of performers and crowd work. If I could use a word to describe the performances it would be camp; if I could use two it would be camp and uncoordinated. Every queen had absolute control over her set and it showed. The music ranged from Singapore NDP songs to raunchy pop anthems to rock classics; and the dresses ranged from gorgeous to fabulous. I must admit, my first takeaway was – performers need to perform. There is a category of drag queens using amazing makeup and raunchy songs to cover up the fact that they aren’t the best dancers or singers. On stage, in extravagant outfits, shaking their hips to a Lady Gaga song is not a performance. That being said, there was a set of performers I thoroughly enjoyed. Kak Nina Boo had stage presence with intricate costumes and choreography mixing in traditional chinese elements, Jan Blaque may just be the best dancer I’ve seen in my life (I invite you to be unimpressed by someone jumping off a platform to a split on stage) and Sapphire Blast had a whole entourage that made me feel like I was in a Step Up movie.
I also really enjoyed the crowd interactions. All the August babies were invited on stage by the MC and it somehow ended up in a lesbian couple revealing themselves to be in a situationship with one wanting something more serious (not all lesbians are U-Haul lesbians).
Leftover thoughts
I really enjoyed the experience of the show and it left me thinking about a few things. First, while I was pleasantly surprised to find drag queens in Singapore, it did highlight underlying questions of gender I’ve had. The women in the show also performed as drag queens, traditionally they perform as drag kings, and a majority of the performers were men. In the last decade there has been increasing representation of the queer community that is both more empathetic and accurate. As a spectator of this I believe this representation is disproportionately that of men. Like in most spheres of the world, the representation of women in the queer community lacks in comparison to that of the men. The drag show felt like an extension of this rule: this was a space for men more than it was for women.
Second, drag is a place for dissent and conversation. As the country was gearing up for its 58th National Day, one drag queen performed to two different Singapore National Day songs. As a foreigner, I do not know Singapore to be a community that encourages, or even allows for political statements of dissent; and while these performances were not particularly meant as political critique it did allow for the audience to enjoy the irony of the messages of the National Day songs and be light hearted about civic duty in a way that other aspects of life in Singapore doesn’t allow.
And so, overall, my first ever drag show in what I perceived to be a conservative nation was one I enjoyed. I found acceptance in this new community and it was accompanied by extravagance and bad jokes. It affirmed that drag is like art – it both mirrors life and pushes its boundaries.