Hey do your thang, honey
Greetings, Trashcans. I’ve returned from the hayyyyyloft of the Gretna Dress Barn to talk to you about Drag Race. We are in Season X, which is as glittery and blunt a tool as the new participation statuettes.
On the kitten heels of All-Stars 3, which many consider the worst of the All-Stars seasons, I am feeling a bit demoralized. Do I love Trixie? Yes. Do I think Shangela deserved to win? Yes. Do I like Drag Race as much now that it’s moved to VH1? No. Is it just me or does it seem like the target audience has gotten much younger? Now even though I’m an exceptionally young gentleperson in my early twenties, I feel like the show is now geared towards 13-year-olds on Reddit.
What does Drag Race mean in the Trump Era? Do the competition and pettiness still feel as exhilarating? Is the craven struggle for fame and fortune and Instagram followers as exciting to watch? Are we celebrating artistry or fame? Can we even separate the two anymore? Even though Ben De la Creme and Ru and Michelle encourage us to be kind and support all the Kweens and refrain from attacking them on social media, it’s hard not to get caught up in the mudslinging since the whole show is an arena where we watch the Kweens tear each other apart before the judges flay them for not being ________ enough, or for wearing green, or for not making their trash dress fitted enough (I was rooting for you, Vanjie!).
The challenge was Drag on a Dime, a callback to the first episode ever. Next week we have a farmer challenge. Is this whole season a copy of a copy of a copy of copy? How have we changed since we lost Porkchop in the first challenge?
Last season, Lady GaGa, another dead-eyed humorless diva, helped to blandly kick off the new season in its new incarnation on another more popular viacom network. This season, X-Tina arrives looking draggier than any of the other kweens, save Ru himself. Given the recent trouble Ru has fallen into regarding what is and is not drag and who is and is not welcome on the show, it’s an interesting choice to invite the epitome of cartoonish draggy beauty on the show. Does it lend it credibility to Drag Race to have a judge from The Voice? Does it seem shoehorned in like an appearance by a very awkward Nancy Pelosi in sensible pumps. Both felt like they’d been shoved out from the wings, uncertain of how to perform in this environment, even more ill at ease than the enchanted Thomas Kinkaide Hungarian witch figurine brought to life that is Jinx Monsoon, clowning for airtime. Lady Gaga, X-tina, Nancy. They are all going through identity crises in these modern times. How will they find relevance?
It’s not that the contestants did not bring it. I assure you, THEY BROUGHT IT. But it feels like the wires that hold the show together are more and more evident. I find myself hoping Santino might plummet from the rafters at any moment. More money, more colorful sets, more famous judges and guest stars, bigger shopping carts – but maybe slightly less heart? Did Ru’s Madame Tussaud’s Wax dummy take the reigns for her? Does anyone remember laughter? If you are blessed and fortunate enough to see Drag Race Thailand, you might remember the pang of genuine mirth from the early years.
Maybe you can find this on Dailymotion – I’m EXCITED FOR YOU
Some of the Kweens on this season were ELEVEN YEARS OLD when the first season aired. Is it possible that the young kweens like Cracker and Aquaria and Blair actually learned to conceive of themselves, their identity and their drag backstory from watching earlier episodes of Drag Race? Will they have an easier time than the older Kweens who are haunted by the heaviness of the past? I’m looking at you, Tempest!
Drag Race is a drag mother now. If Blair and Cracker and Aquaria are the result of that, then color me content so far. Blair, who I initially believed to be the evening’s human sacrifice, seems to understand her references even though she has the great misfortune of not being from NYC (I’m rolling my eyes – can you hear it?). After two seasons of neither being overwhelmed or underwhelmed, but just plain whelmed, I am excited to see what this season has in store for us.
The 90 minutes of show plus 30 minutes of Untucked is staggering and not necessarily of dense Kaloric value.
Yuhua looks like the hate-child of Bianca and Gia Gunn, complete with clown makeup and undercooked jokes.
Using NYC aka “The Most Competitive Drag Scene in the Country” as some sort of badge of honor tires me. What if you all just calmed down? On that note – Aquaria’s entry outfit is a belt and a piece of fabric. But with the wig, she looks like a Misfit from Jem and the Holograms and I am ready to see more.
Kalorie won because she ejaculated money during the lipsync. Oh well. Someone has to go home next week.
I am sad to see Vanjie Mateo go. Puerto Rican Kweens are woefully mis-underrepresented (yes, I think I made that word up).
Dusty Ray Bottoms is the new Milk. She also looks just like the padded blond villain from the Elvira, Mistress of the Dark Film.
I loved Mayhem and her fisting outfit, but she rolled out the tears a bit early. Girl, you ain’t even started yet! Get your shit together – I need you to fight!
I’m excited about Vixen – I think the show needs to have more politically oriented queens to do more than just look pretty. It’s not enough anymore.
Tell me your thoughts, Thots! I’ll be waiting here like Porkchop, shifting idly from too-tight heel to too-tight heel, just outside the glare of the catwalk lights, watching the Kweens go by like waves of tissue and vapor.
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