|Winner Hoku Mama Swamp. She wowed the judges with her impressive fried chicken consuming abilities.
Klubstitute Kollective particularly proudly presented the 10th annual Faux Queen Pageant, “We Will Frock You,” featuring 12 contestants who were drag queens trapped in women’s bodies, on Aug. 14 at Slim’s, starting off with Polkacide revving up the audience. The evening benefited the San Francisco Sex Information hotline (providing free anonymous nonjudgmental info about sex and St. James Infirmary (offering free, confidential, nonjudgmental medical and social services for all sex workers). Polkacide is a Burning Man-approved, acid-dipped, hardcore polka band with some musicians in drag, leather, lederhosen, chef’s outfits, and dirty tee shirts; but the only female member, accordionist Maggie Martin, wore a polka dot skirt and mismatched pumps. When they did the “Chicken Dance,” Sister Dana nearly passed out while dancing with his partner, as the song got progressively faster and faster. Then it was time for the “Weiner Dog Polka,” a double entendre dirty ditty where a spunky little dog will sit up in your lap and beg to be petted. Penis, kids…it’s about a penis.
The night was also about recognizing past Faux Queens and enjoying them. Co-hostess FQ4 Bea Dazzler, in sparkly black top hat and matching shoes, did a dazzling homage to Cindy Lauper with “She Bop,” the song about female masturbation. She couldn’t stop “messin’ with the danger zone” as she humped one of the poles on stage. Co-hostess FQ8 Cricket Bardot was chic in white satin and white suede, introducing the judges.
Judging is complicated in this contest, because not only are contestants determined on drag looks, talent, and personality; they also get bonus points for the amount of tips they are given by the audience, all of which go to the charities. The judges were filmmaker Machiko Saito; author and co-founder of Popstitute and Klubstitute, Alvin Orloff; trans activist Cecilia Chung; underground legend Ruby Toosday; scholar/curator Jordy Jones; cable TV hostess Dee Dee Russell; celebutant and actress/musician Birdie Bob Watt; and Booty Call photographer, dragstress, and a grand marshal in the Pride Parade, Juanita More. The night was made official with Mayor Gavin Newsom’s, Assemblyman Mark Leno’s, and Supervisor Bevan Dufty’s certificates of honor. As well as The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, Inc. with their blessing. Then the catwalk began, showcasing the contestants in their everyday wear. Not even. They totally obeyed the Klubstitute sanction: “May the fierce be with you.”
FQ Patti O’Furniture, her rocker hubbie Tristan Shout, and their two-month old baby (who already has her FQ name—Jennifer Convertible, named for where she was conceived) were also emcees. They all brought out the contestants.
Vinyl DeVille dedicated the night to all drag queens who fought for a stage to be built “so that we could all share the spotlight with them; without them, faux queens would be in the dark.” Two gentlemen in top hats and tails joined her in Siouxie and the Banshees’ “Peekaboo,” where a huge fight—interrupted by a confetti storm—broke out over her, and she had to whip them into shape. Betsie L’Roux apparently didn’t get the memo about what a FQ was, because she was dressed in an off-the-rack boring dress, no wig, very little makeup, and stack heels, trying to tell us “We Are All Stars.” Nuh uh. Next was Eartha Klitt, wearing a potato masher and egg beater in her hair, a happy homemaker who was all set to fix her main man a nice box lunch when she discovered a used rubber in his suit pocket. It was ALL over then, as she smashed his sandwich and stuck his thermos of coffee up her coochie.
Then it was time for Hoku Mama Swamp to strut her swampy stuff, who confessed, “I was born to love faggots, queens, and trannies, and have slowly been morphing into them since childhood.” She called herself a “big ole floozy whore who likes eating fried chicken from her fanny pack and wrestling in pits of spaghetti.” Her overblown makeup would have put Divine to shame; her wig was a nasty dishwater blond mess of gnarled curls, and her tight pink spandex panties could not hide the massive, fake labial bulge peeking through, as she most appropriately lip-synced “The Camel Toe Song.” Hordes of men in the audience went up and licked that obvious protrusion, stuffing her underwear with dollar bills. Later she told Bay Times, “I love beautiful, campy, and completely tragic queens and try to pull all those aspects together. Although I must admit, I think I love the tragic ones best.” She danced about and finished off doing most impressive splits. Her act brought in the most tips of the night—$138.
Holy McGrail was a double for Jennifer Holiday in the Dream Girls show, lip-syncing the “And I Am Telling You” number and working the stage to filth, gesturing with verve and gusto. If you squinted your eyes, you could swear Nikki Star was on stage. All that was missing was Nikki’s somersaults. Miss E. Quipped has had other names in the business—for instance with the Fabulous Dyketones, she was Kitty Litter and as a burlesque queen she was Gigi LaRue with Rainbeau’s Erotic Lesbian Dance Theatre. She lip-synced “Turn Around, Bright Eyes,” while masked people covered her with veils and then fondled her and nibbled her to try to get her through the night. She shredded the roses they offered her, eating some petals and spitting them out at the audience. Then she had a fit on the ground as they tried to hold her tight. At the end, she pulled a bloody heart from her bra. Totally Trannyshackable!
Next up was P-Raw, the Whore of the Underworld. She did a commercial for anger management, teaching viewers not to hold emotions in, but to express them. Suddenly she raged against the producer and director and got very angry with her slaves, who eventually leaped into the audience to escape the wrath. For the halftime break there was the Ethel & Lucci Show—Ethel Merman and Lucciano Pavorotti singing live rock music such as “Play That Funky Music, White Boy,” “River Deep, Mountain High,” and “Born to be Wild” sung operatically. Past Faux Queen Patty O’Furniture introduced Pandora
Paradox, who lip-synced Veronica Klaus’ version of “I Will Survive” while beating up her boyfriend and then stabbing him as blood flowed everywhere but on her lovely translucent gown. Later on she told judges to imagine if Tank Girl and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac had a child—that would be her. Sedussa was next, her hair looking like Medusa’s snakes, wiggling and jiggling all over the place while lipping, “You Are Mine.” Diva Derriere was a big, bold, brassy broad in black bustier and crystals—sprinkling the audience in gold fairy dust while doing an “Ave Maria” operatic number and dramatically daubing her tears with a hanky. The last entry was actually two ladies—“the original fag hag drag duo,” according to their announcement—Charity Jubilee and Trixie Treat. They were Velma and Roxie doing “I Move On” from the movie version of Chicago, dancing very Bob Fosse and pretending to shoot people with their tommy gun.
Soon the results were in from the judges. The Too Fish Award, (entrant who looked too much like a real girl, not a FQ) went to Betsie L’Roux, who received a two-pound can of dolphin-free tuna. Judges Merit Award went to P-Raw. Second runner-up was Eartha Klitt; first runner-up was Miss E. Quipped; and the newest Faux Queen is now Hoku Mama Swamp, who accepted her title while eating chicken and throwing bones and skin into the audience—that’s how classy this chick is. Rumor has it that P-Raw snatched her prize of a faux chinchilla wrap and ran away. When Bay Times questioned what Hoku’s plans were, she shouted, “I’m going to Disneyland!” When further prodded as to how she will change the world, she said, “I’ll give everybody herpes!”