REVVING OUR ENGINES

The Suprise In A Box Of Crackerjacks: A RuPaul's Drag Race Recap
By Miz J
IT'S THE SEQUIN-STUDDED PREMIERE OF RuPaul's Drag Race and I am the HBIC, okaaaaay?
Let's start with role call: Manila, Carmen, Venus, Delta, Raja, India, Stacy, Mimi, Phoenix, Yara, Alexis and Mariah are some larger than life kinds of ladies. And I feel like, if I had been born a man (perish the THOUGHT), I'd be fully rocking my own spot on this show. I mean, pee standing up? Fuck that shit.
of course, because it’s a drag show, there’s not going to be some simple introduction. There are going to be GRAND ENTRANCES. Carmen walks in first, and he brags about how “Carmen is basically the fliest girl you’ll ever meet. I make sure her body is flawless. If you see a flaw, let me know.” My husband, who is frantically wrapping up dinner and trying to flee the living room like some kind of last-minute hurricane survivor staring at the eye of the storm, goes, “Uh, you got a penis. Huge flaw.”
You know, it’s funny to see drag queens walk into a ladies’ room. It’s like, the beginning of every locker room porno they’ve seen as confused young boys, merged with every episode of Sex and the City they came to love later in life. Like, they walk in and do a big, gushy, “Hiiiiiii,” because they’re used to seeing women portrayed on TV and in film like bitches. And come on, often, we are. Even in porn. It’s just our way. Meow.
So naturally, there’s a lot of talk about who will assume the bitch role. This too is interesting, because it always ends up being the ones who are the most aggressively male in the bunch. And there are two divas who are super male and uh, super dressed exactly the same. They’ll duke it out for the title of, um, I guess She Who Wears The Most Gunmetal Gray and Studded Leather. The bitchiness is at an all-time high because everyone’s still posturing, and it’s hilarious because not a single menstrual period experienced between this dozen.
I instantly love Raja, the rail thin diva with the no-fuss, no-muss attitude. She walks in with nearly no makeup on and you can HEAR the fake lashes struggling to blink naturally that many times in a row. It turns out that the prize for the ultimately fabulous winner of Drag Race is a lifetime supply of Kryolan makeup (I know, I was SURE it would be MAC), a shitload of Absolut and $75K. Um, listen, LOGO, just give me the Absolut and $25K. Miz J will give you a shitshow of epic proportions, including a Fabulous Ho Beatdown, an unforgettable karaoke rendition of MC Lyte’s entire catalogue and a classic “What the Fuck Is You Doin’?” monologue, complete with complementary glass throwing.
Okay, so anyway. It’s Christmas at the Drag Races, and here comes a box. Hahaha, sorry gals, not THAT kind of box. An actual box. With someone inside. Again, not THAT kind of box. Sorry.
Of course, everyone thinks it’s Lady Gaga. And of course, it’s not. It’s Shangela Debutantess, the first contestant eliminated last season. Everyone throws her their most divaesque side eye, because they think she must be getting special treatment or something. But in this case, it’s not true. Shangela tells us she had to audition again to get back on the show, and she’s going to bust her ass (pads) to stay in it this time.
The first part of the holiday fun is a Christmas card photo shoot, on a trampoline. The girls tuck the boys away and get into the spirit. Raja jumps and springs and smiles, skinny butt all over this shoot. RuPaul describes her as a gazelle, and I realize all these years of being jealous of tall, skinny women was for naught: turns out “gazelle” is a polite way of saying “gawky.” Despite all that, Raja’s killer personality seals the deal for her, which comes in handy for the second part of the competition.
Now the ladies must go out in drag, in broad daylight, to thrift shop for their outfits for RuPaul’s Christmas pageant. Raja, being the winner, gets an extra bit of cash for flash, and turns it out like a true diva. But first, let me say that I would be honored to have any of these gals come fix my hot mess of a closet, okay? Because some of them are wearing TREE SKIRTS better than I wear full-price Tarjay on the best damn day of my life.
The girls return from thrifting to a dressing room decked out in Christmas gear. Which they use to spice up their wares. Nothing is sacred; everything is an accent. These ladies, Phoenix notes, are NO ladies. Ornaments. Tree skirts. And, as Shangela tells us, “I’m trying to be Sister Element of Surprise over here, but it’s hard when you got a five-foot snowman.”
Then, drama! Venus accuses Phoenix of stealing her idea to crush ornaments and glue them to a jacket lapel. I was expecting some fists but instead I hear more barbs, which is okay too. It’s here that we learn Venus’s day job: Madonna impersonator. And I thought RuPaul had the gayest job in the universe.
Ru does a lap through the ladies’ room, playing Tim Gunn and shit. He stops at Raja’s outfit, a totally kicky plaid number, and says, “It’s very Christmas pudding. At Vivenne Westwood’s. On Boxing Day.” And Raja’s all, “You’re SO RIGHT. That’s what I was going for!” And that's when I knew I was in over my head.
The divas walk out on the stage, where Bruce Villanch, Vanessa Williams and Michelle Visage are waiting to judge them. Carmen, naturally, is wearing next to nothing, and Michelle warns her not to always rely on her body. Solid advice. Especially because she’s nekkid for almost the entire hour of footage. And therein lies the difference between these gals and biological women: we’re predisposed to shame. Although, watching these gals strut their stuff, I still don’t know why. They’re having a shitload of fun and I want to do the same.
What I do notice that we have in common: sisterhood. As bitchy as these Jezebels can be, when Mimi had a meltdown after her dress got messed up, Mariah stepped in to help. And that’s the fact about us gals: we do what we can for each other. Begrudgingly if we don’t actually like you. But we help nonetheless.
Mimi takes one of the top spots with her over-the-top Virgin Mary ensemble. Shangela misses with her Snow Hoe and Me concept. She and Venus, whose ponytail is the most interesting thing about her uninspired outfit, must then LIP SYNC FOR YOUR LIFE!!! To a Vanessa Williams song.
And this is where shit gets weird.
Shangela, to her credit, never stops lip synching. The show must go on, after all. Even with Venus pushing her and running into her and otherwise trying to knock her down. Even with her top fully exposing her nipples. Even with the wigs and shoes flying every which way. RuPaul dismisses Venus with a sassy, “Shine on. Now sashay, AWAY.” I think I’m gonna start sashaying.
Miz J blogs at Ask Miz J.
