News :: Local
Girls gone wild :: Straight women embrace local drag scene by Scott Kearnan
EDGE ContributorTuesday Jan 15, 2008Kris Knievil has one request for Boston bachelorettes: If you plan on spending your last hurrah of singlehood at Jacque’s Cabaret, learn a lesson from Britney Spears and leave on your underwear.
"I put my face down there and they’re not wearing any panties," says Knievil, legendary Boston area drag queen and cabaret performer, of several unpleasant incidences involving forgetful female attendees.
After eight years of performing at Jacque’s Cabaret, Knievil is used to horrifying virgin spectators with her ribald performance of "Pussy," a Lords of Acid song that contains what may be the unofficial motto of the Association of Gynecological Health [A.G.H!]: "I wanna see your pussy / Show it to me."
Knievil’s performance will typically climax ("climax"... giggle!) when she targets an unsuspecting audience member ("member"... titter!), tosses said audience member’s splayed legs over her shoulder and introduces the flushed female to a yoga position not taught in Buff Brides workout programs; roughly translated from its original Hindi name, it’s She Who Engages in Faux Cunnilingus.
"I was a little embarrassed, but it was all good," says Maureen Kelleher of Boston, one of several bachelorettes partying at Jacque’s on a recent Saturday night. Kelleher was singled out for Knievil’s infamous "Pussy" performance and the resultant gymnastics gave new meaning to the term "blushing bride."
But Kelleher was a good sport about the evening’s outrageous antics. In fact, by night’s end she wore her red face like a badge of honor."Someone said, ’You’re the lucky one,’" says Kelleher of a friend’s reaction to her participatory moment. "I guess I was!"
Kelleher was smart enough to wear jeans for her night of drag spectacle, but more than once Knievil has been the one getting an eyeful... from an audience member who forgot to put a lid on the box: "That’s always a bit surprising," she says.
Of course, what’s really surprising is that so much (natural) female anatomy is even inside the hallowed walls of one of Boston’s queer institutions. Aside from the rare novelty act (like RuPaul and Lady Bunny), drag performers have typically drawn their greatest support from the gay male community.
Notwithstanding, of course, audiences for Drag Kings. But does anyone go to K.D. Lang concerts anymore?
However, over the last few years, area performers and club managers have noticed a surprising trend: Straight girls hanging at gay bars, and brides-to-be tossing restraint--and evidently, panties--to the wind at local drag shows. Believe it or not, Jacque’s Cabaret has even been featured in Modern Bride magazine as a top pick for Beantown bachelorettes.
"Those bitches get out of control," chimes in Katya, another one of Jacque’s leading "ladies"--and the recently crowned Miss Gay Massachusetts 2007--as she inspects her ensemble under the bright white lights of the dressing room mirror. Katya says that the cabaret club’s growing clientele of female attendees can be among the most lecherous of the bunch.
"They’re wonderful for the most part," she says. "[But sometimes] they’re worse than the boys. They get really inappropriate. When they show up, they’re already drunk. I’ve seen them throw up right on the floor."
Indeed, this Saturday night sees one bachelorette party well underway before the show on Jacque’s stage has official begun. A limo van is parked on a residential side street behind the cabaret’s Bay Village location and a bevy of bridesmaids are dancing, drinking, and whooping under its interior black lights.
The limo’s sound system fills the night air with the glorious ’90s rap hit "Rump Shaker," a selection that won’t reflect well on poor Jacque’s which has already endured significant scrutiny from its neighbors for noise-related issues. Knievil says that the local neighborhood association--led by a gay man, no less--has made several attempts to have the establishment shut down.
Inside the club, three bachelorette parties, including Kelleher’s, constitute the majority of audience members. There’s also a celebration for a local Birthday Girl, and though the place is packed with roughly four-dozen seated guests, only three are male. Through some on-stage banter with Knievil, at least one of these boys is also identified as straight.
Beside him, a girl in leopard print pants smacks her gum and awaits the next bawdy joke.
Dorothy, we are so not in Kansas anymore. Like, y’knoooow?
"It’s bachelorette and Bud Light hell," says Knievil of the more ill-behaved girls who stop in for closer look at Those Crazy Queens. The current audience is no longer unrepresentative of the cabaret’s regular constituency, and Knievil and Katya agree that Jacque’s usually hosts a bare minimum of one bachelorette party per weekend.
They also identify a "mild gay backlash" from certain community members who are unappreciative of heterosexual women (the marrying type, no less!) invading a traditionally queer space.
But on stage, and even amidst the expected blue humor, Knievil imparts genuine good will to the future newlyweds. As long as they’re the respectful type, those that keep their underwear on and their gag reflex off, she’s happy to welcome new additions to the Jacque’s family.
Sure, she trots the bachelorettes on stage at the start of each show and makes a few Size Queen jabs at their diamond rings. Honeymoon locations are ridiculed, husbandly occupations are mocked, and it’s best not to mention the special venom reserved for hideous bridal party colors.
But it’s all in good fun, never more hurtful than humorous, and it is--believe it or not--pretty well appreciated by the fun-loving brides.
"I thought they were fantastic," says Kelleher of the female impersonators. "They were hilarious. Some of my friends were shocked because they had never been to one [a drag show] before, but in the end they were like, ’that was great!’"
While Kelleher certainly wouldn’t consider herself a cabaret connoisseur, it wasn’t her own first time at Jacques: she had already attended a bachelorette party for her niece, and had such an enjoyable time that her own Maid of Honor selected the spot for Kelleher’s final outing as a single gal.
"It’s a fun night out. The drinks are cheap and there are no guys trying to grab your snatch." "I told two friends, and she told two friends, and so on and so on..." jokes Knievil, likening the venue’s word-of-mouth sensation to the Faberge shampoo commercial of retro nostalgia. (We’re just grateful she avoided any "Where’s the beef?" puns).
"I have no idea how it all started," Knievil continues, though her shampoo analogy (lather, rinse, ogle, gossip, repeat) holds water.
Just ask another upcoming newlywed. "I always had it [Jacque’s] in the back of my mind," says Michele Cizauskas. Like Kelleher, she was introduced to the drag establishment by a previous attendee, her gay former roommate. "He first brought me there, and I was like, ’Ooh, this place is pretty fun!’" says Cizauskas. Years later, the bride-to-be has personally selected it for her own upcoming bachelorette party.
The choice was met with rave reviews by her excited friends."Everyone thought it would be fun and fantastic," says Cizauskas, who says even her mother is interested in scoping the scene. "It’s a little different than just going into Boston to go to a bar," says the Medway, Mass. resident.
"I wanted to do something different, I love Broadway, and this is a little more intimate." Plus, Cizauskas has her own plans to get into the playful spirit of dress-up: "We’re all going to wear feather boas," she laughs.
Back up the Vengabus: a straight woman sings the praises of Broadway and boas, even as a gay man makes attempts to shut down his neighboring drag bar?
My, oh my. These gendered lines have blurred more than MAC makeup under a megawatt spotlight.
In fact, it’s not just heterosexual women who are getting in on the heavily sequined action. Take Kelly Davidson, a gay photographer who is celebrating this performance art with "Drag Me Out, Drag Me In," an exhibition on display from January 17 through March 7 at The Paradise Lounge Gallery. Davidson moved to Boston 10 years ago, when she was introduced to drag culture by - who else? - Miss Kris Knievil.
During one of her first trips to Jacques, Davidson was plucked by Knievil to be her "Pussy" participant. The rest is history.
"I was super young and mortified," recalls Davidson. "I had never been so red in my life." She laughs, remembering how quickly she acclimated to the joy of witnessing such outrageous performances. "The next time I went it was someone else [chosen]. Then, I was like, ’this is awesome!’"
"Drag Me Out, Drag Me In," documents Davidson’s subsequent "fascination" with drag culture, visually documenting the evolution and effect of male to "female" transformation. Davidson says that she reveres the "gender fucking" that accompanies the art of drag, and her vibrant photographs - most taken backstage at Machine nightclub - certainly pulse with the supernova energy of drag subjects like Mo Brown, Jujubee and Mizery.
"As a photographer, I want to capture everything," says Davidson of her draw to drag. "[With drag] there’s the element of energy, of being shocking, and of extremes. I’m fascinated with these extremes, and the process used to get there."
Plus, says Davidson in her Artist Statement: "It’s titillating that drag queens are more male AND more female than I will ever be." Davidson’s reactions, fascination and reverence are likely shared by other women.
That helps to clarify the modern female interest in drag, but it’s a trend without clear-cut explanation. Besides, in a world increasingly tolerant of behavior outside the gender norms, maybe it’s narrow-minded of queer culture to presume that only Fabulous Homos and the Fag Hags Who Love Them can be interested in drag.
In reality, the gamut of response runs much deeper.
"There’s a wide spectrum of reaction," says Knievil about current perspectives on drag. "A lot of club owners still think we’re all a bunch of morons... and you have a lot of gay men who say, ’Ugh, those damn drag queens,’" she rolls her eyes in feigned disdain.
Katya nods her head in agreement.
On the other hand, "Drag is a lot more respected than it used to be," says Knievil. Coupled with greater acceptance of queer representations in mainstream media, that respect has contributed to the shifting face--and genitalia--of show attendees.
Plus, there’s always the promise of good music, good fun and cheap beer.
"If I was a heterosexual woman looking to do something different, I’d think it was a fun night, too," says Knievil. "It’s a fun night out. The drinks are cheap and there are no guys trying to grab your snatch."
True, true... and sort of true.
Technicalities aside, Cizauskas echoes that very rationale as instrumental in her own choice of venue. "Everyone is excited to see the show," she says. "We’re all curious, and wondering what it’s going to be like to be able to dance, sing along, and not worry about some guy hitting on you."
"You can be yourself and not worry," says Cizauskas.
And if a drag performer can’t understand that sentiment, she’s not a queen worthy of her crown.
Check out www.jacquescabaret.com for info about Jacque’s Cabaret.
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