Andrew in Drag: My (limited) experience as a Drag King

Performing in drag was probably one of my favourite things that I’ve ever done. I’d had the idea in my head for a while now: a campy gender caricature of a typical Dostoevsky protagonist- gloomy, dark-eyed, sexy despite his internal conflict. I’d already had a name - Dykestoevsky - for a while now too, so when my best friend announced he was running a drag show to promote his magazine (who I am still working for!) I knew I had to perform. Originally performing just to support him, I knew drag was just a little bit out of my comfort zone, but I’m glad I persevered, and with the help of a few (free!) double vodka lemonades, I performed. 

He just can't fight it... he's gonna kill someone!

Me and my axe I made from cardboard the night before.

Feat. A very badly-made fag. Oh, and a cigarette. 

    That was back in November. Now, I’m hoping to make drag a habit for me, and I’ve got another show lined up on the 20th January (if you’re Oxford-based, come see me!). There’s something quite comforting about dressing up, and being able to be a caricature for a night. It’s expressive, it’s freeing, it’s drunken and sexy and all things in between. 

    My act is as follows: I begin lying on a couch, and a quote from Dostoevsky plays. “To love is to suffer, and there can be no love otherwise.” Dark is the night (an old Soviet war song) begins to play. I pretend to smoke a cigarette, and take a swig from my flask and I crawl towards a table where I take a (unfortunately very real) shot of vodka, and continue to dance, slowly stripping, revealing that I have had an axe hidden under my coat the entire time. I act surprised, before dancing, almost with the axe. This song ends with me, pretending to murder someone, and a scream plays. And then, Rasputin begins to play, and I end the act by drunkenly Russian dancing on stage. 

    The show wasn’t perfect, and I’d fucked up the audio, so I had to improvise and read the Bible to the audience while my bestie, god bless his soul, sorted the audio. Afterwards, I got a message from one of the full-time drag kings that was at the event letting me know he’s doing another show on the 20th, and that I was very welcome to perform. It was from that point that I knew drag was for me.

    I am not a trans man, although I do want top surgery. My gender is complicated but very simple at the same time: I view myself as, you know, just nothing. I don’t think about my gender, it’s not even there. I suppose agender would be the closest label I could give myself, though in terms of gender presentation, I oscillate wildly between hyper-feminine and super masculine, though most days, I settle for an inbetween, a privilege that my piercings and mullet let me do. The thing that gives me dysphoria, though, is when people try to force me one way or another, or even in between: I really, really hate people telling me what to do. So it’s nice to parody that caricature of masculinity through drag. For that night, I can be a man, I can cross-dress. It’s really such a blessing in my life. 

    The thing about top surgery is I think I would look so hot with it, especially because being non-binary, I aim for a sort-of non-human look anyway, and I feel like lack of tits would complete that somewhat. I have a gorgeous ribcage tattoo which I feel would look so hot. But alas, I have to think about this some more, as my parents do not yet know I’m trans, and I acknowledge my privilege with being able to hide it from them. I’m just glad I went down the route of being openly out and non-binary at university, because I don’t think I could’ve lived several more years, or lifetimes, of being someone I’m not. 

    When I first got to university, I had intense imposter syndrome  with my gender. I’d known I was trans since 2021, but still felt like I was not a real part of the community, and was seriously considering going back in the closet. I was presenting quite feminine at the time, and felt everyone knew there was something wrong with me, that I was faking it. And there was one thing worse than being perceived as non-binary for me, and that was being viewed as a fake. Though, in freshers week, I found myself gravitating to trans people, and even went to a few trans events. I threw on a beanie and a masculine outfit, and I said to one of my close friends - “I feel like I’m cosplaying as a trans person.” That was a horrible thing to say about myself, and I see that now. But it felt so real at the time. 

    I’m glad I stuck with my gender though, because I feel more authentically myself than ever. Hell, I’m a drag king! I write for a queer magazine, I make queer art, I’m dating a queer woman. Everything about me is so fucking queer and trans, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s what drag is to me. It's a protest, it’s fun, and it’s queer joy. And I won’t give that up for anything.