Essee – Punamusta Liekki #15/kesäkuu 2025
On 3.5.2025, a drag show titled GLOW was held at Pikisaarentie 15. The event included a drag performance and ballroom showcase. I attended with some friends, and what follows is my experience at the event.
What I wear is very important to me. It’s a form of self expression that I’ve held close since I was a teenager. That night I played it safe with big pants, a small skirt and smaller top. Tried and true. I knew it would be a fashion forward event and I wanted to feel hot and confident.
My friends and I stood outside with the smokers, chatting a moment before entering the building to a room packed with smiling, visibly queer people. The room buzzed with energy and I felt safe surrounded by people that looked and moved like me. In one corner, a screen projected a video of two gender non-conforming people locked in a full body embrace, slowly exploring one another’s forms, clothed only in white jockstraps and tank tops. Two small lines of text read:
Would you want to wrestle with me?
I would love to.
I found myself entranced and stared at the screen for many minutes, those simple words echoing around my mind, saying so much in so little. The two people writhed on the screen, holding each other lovingly while playfully mimicking the ancient tradition of wrestling. I commented to my friend Io how much I loved it, how powerful it felt. They agreed.
Soon the familiar notes of Lady Gaga’s Bloody Mary filled the room. Everyone shuffled close together, crowded around the small stage. At the back of the room, my 17cm platform shoes lifted me just high enough to see whisps of purple tulle whipping, then floating, tearing around the stage.
I’ll dance, dance, dance,
with my hands, hands, hands
above my head, head, head,
like Jesus said
The crowd screamed with delight as the first number came to a close and a second performer, dressed all in red with a wide-brimmed feather hat limped dramatically to the stage. I couldn’t quite see the cane that they leaned on as they paid homage to the music video for Gaga’s Abracadabra. Lifting my phone to record for a few seconds, I gained a better view as they thrusted and twisted their body to the chorus. I couldn’t help the goofy grin that crept across my face.
A quick smoke break as we digested the evocative performance. I was prepared for that to have been the highlight of the night, and felt content. The container in my heart that yearns to be filled with queer culture and art was already full. But before long the time came for what turned out to be the main event.
An MC stepped onto the stage and welcomed us. I felt welcome. After introductions, they asked that we split in the middle to create an impromptu runway down the center of the room, and moving as one, the crowd obliged. The DJ onstage dropped a beat.
The category is…
I wish I could recall what the category actually was, but my attention was stolen by a drag performer in a short dress and kitten heels as she stepped into the room. Slowly and confidently she strutted up and down the runway, giving coy looks to the audience who swooned in response.
Another performer leaped out from the corner in a leopard print jumpsuit, brimming with energy. They pawed up and down the runway with infectious self assuredness, dancing and voguing to the rhythm of the music. I screamed until my throat hurt and kept screaming.
The category is…
This time, the MC invited members of the crowd to take the limelight. A hush fell over the room as everyone looked nervously at one another, nobody prepared to be the first to step out. Unphased, the MC continued on, assuring us that there would be plenty of opportunities tonight for us to participate. My heart beat a little faster.
The category is… hands!
The MC waltzed over to a person crouched near me, calling them to rise from the floor. They held their chin high and pushed their shoulders back. Proud, they strutted without hurry to the middle of the runway. The bass thumped and they swung their arms in time, striking a pose with each beat that flaunted their wrists, fingers, and palms as the category called for. In my own words, they killed it, crushed it, murdered the assignment.
The category is… body!
As more people were coaxed out of their shells and onto the floor by the charismatic MC, I began to tremble. A person with a shaved head threw their ass like a professional. A tall individual with a lace bodysuit and a beard to match paced the runway stiffly, but with character and joy. Filled with nervous energy, I knew what I had to do.
I unceremoniously dropped my phone and bag and stepped out from behind the people in front of me, walking quickly to the center stage. My mind went blank as I extended my arms, striking pose after pose. The category was body, so I showed mine off–I grabbed my breasts and shook them at one side of the crowd, then the other. I felt empowered and strong in my transmasculine body. I might as well have sprinted up and down the runway with all my adrenaline as the MC told me to slow down. Standing before the judge, I bent over and shook my ass with abandon before power walking back into the safety of the crowd. I could hardly hear the judges ruling for the blood pounding in my ears. My friends congratulated me as I shook from head to toe.
Moments later, my friend Vanja took a deep breath and stepped out onto the runway herself. She took slow deliberate steps, graceful as a deer. Up and down the runway, she moved as if she had never felt shy in her life. I screamed as hard as I could for her as the judge ruled tens, tens across the board! She sauntered back to our place and we quickly scurried out of the room to fill our lungs with nicotine and breathe out the adrenaline.
Back inside, the MC announced category after category. High femme, vogue, fashion, bizarre, lips. Stylish people of all gender presentations stepped out into the light to present their clothes, their moves, themselves. One performer emerged guided by a friend, draped in tendrils with a protruding back shell, hulking up and down the runway. A love letter to freaky drag that took expression of gender presentation beyond men and women. This is my favorite kind of drag, the kind that transcends gender and bodies as we traditionally know them, challenging what one expects to see from such a performance.
An hour later, the show wrapped up. I cheered and hollered until the last moment, eager to show my appreciation for these amazing performers who gave their all to this stage. After the show, most people left quickly, off to attend their other Saturday night plans I’m sure. We hung around for a while, dancing to the music, standing about and chatting.
At one point, the MC approached me. They didn’t mean to make assumptions about my identity, but they guessed correctly that I am nonbinary and thanked me for going out on the runway.
”It takes a lot of nerve to go out and walk that runway, and we need more nonbinary people in these spaces,” they said. I glowed with appreciation.
The energy continued to wind down and we eventually collected our things and set off into the night. The bar we chose was dead, but we didn’t particularly care and we chatted energetically until the small hours of the morning, appreciative for gay company and the love we share between us as queer people.
Kirjoittaja: Syd
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