I remember the first time I saw her on stage, before I really knew what the Imperial Sovereign Court of the Wild Rose (ISCWR) was. Her statuesque frame, dancing in the glow of the lights. But tonight, standing in the glow of our kitchen window, she slides her heels over four pairs of tights and ducks under the door, careful not to hit her crown. When she’s finally ready, she stands about seven feet tall. A foot and a half above me, threatening the hegemonic masculinity I’m trying to unlearn.
Outside, the back door of the cab opens and I get in first, as usual. She crawls in, her corseted body trying to fit the confines of the yellow sedan. The driver turns off of Jasper Avenue and stops at the rainbow-flagged Evolution Wonderlounge, the only gay bar left in town. Before I turned 18, I would dream about coming here and seeing the seemingly untouchable black and white stage. Now, after countless nights spent here with her, it’s become a second home.
We hold hands and move across the icy pavement into the warmth of the bar. The newest remix of “Strong Enough” is accompanied by the click of her heels as I trail down the stairs behind her, where she is greeted by a chorus of queens. “Hello, your Majesty.” She offers a sarcastic curtsy and rolls her eyes — and I follow her, past the pool table, past the maybe-too-familiar gogo cage, and into the back room. Pictures of queens from Rupaul’s Drag Race stare back at me as I stand on my toes to zip up her dress. From the DJ booth, a familiar voice welcomes us to tonight’s show, put on by the ISCWR, and the performers are asked to come to the back for a photo. The room fills with local legends like Godiva and Vanity Fair. I reach up to clasp her necklace and straighten her gown. “Is that all, your Majesty?” I tease. She leaves a lipstick mark on my forehead as thanks, and joins the rest of the group.
Before I met her, these queens intimidated me, their statuesque figures, visible in all their shade. Now, after countless nights acting as a drag husband, they are family. Because that’s what you are when you come here, regardless of the haus you grew up in.