ABSTRACT
It was RuPaul, a cultural heiress of José's, who said, “We are all bom naked. The rest is drag.” Everybody dresses to create an image, and that is what drag is all about. Royal drag, girl drag, boy drag, disco drag, leather drag, yuppie drag, cowboy drag, biker drag, gender-flick drag, fifties drag: it's about painting a picture with yourself as the canvas. It just happens that some people elevate drag to a level beyond mere image, to a level akin to other arts. And like all good art, it tweaks at society's comfortable assumptions and conventions. In this case, it blatantly but affectionately bends the rigid gender roles that burden far too many of us. No one does this better than the queens and dykes of the Imperial Court System. The living art they create moves beyond dressing up. Theirs is an illusion of splendor that borders on the magical.
