The idea of DragCon: you get a bunch of queers together, you let them parade around however they like, and everyone is happy and very, very, very gay. It’s a winning formula! Unless it isn’t because DragCon was fine.
It wasn’t bad. Also, full disclosure: I don’t think me and my lil crew did it entirely correctly. The convention is a Comic Con type of environment married with drag culture as it relates to self-expression through drag. For young and old queers alike hoping to use drag as a means by which to get out there, this is for you. For the fans of RuPauls’ Drag Race? This is where it’s at too.
For the aspiring queens, the place was heaven. You could prance around and flaunt your form of drag for all to inhale, becoming bewitched or bothered by your fumes. The beauty of it was that men and women of all ages and all sexual and gender identities were themselves, in harmony: that was wonderful. There was a constant sexless mating ritual occurring of men and woman hoping to court glances by revealing their truest selves. There was a lot of nudity and a lot of sexual energy without the aggressive backroom sex typical of a place like The Eagle. I’m sure DragCon had that (and plenty of Kai Kais) but that was left off the convention floor.
So what was on the convention floor? Makeup. Lots of it. There was some swag and some artists selling goods inspired by the Logo show in addition to various related services, from obvious inclusions by Al & Chuck Travel and Word Of Wonder to oddball entries from (mostly) real lady focused Pinup Girl Clothing to bizarre and pinkly bedazzled T-Mobile. The walkways were crowded and the room smelled of a foundation mixed with Sun Ripened Raspberry mixed with elegant farts.
And that was the issue with DragCon: it was unorganized. Maybe I’m too much of a fan convention virgin but this shit was a hot mess. Everything was overflowing with various gawkers, stalkers, and nerds, a feature that would have been fine had there been more direction and more knowledge of what exactly was happening with DragCon. There was little signage and a lot of confusion, not to mention constant fawning. Again: I would have loved this had I known the rules of play. But maybe there were none and that is the point: gender is a lie. Overcrowding? Not a lie, though.
But! It wasn’t all for nothing. My little sister got to meet her biggest drag crush, Jujubee, while I got to see many of my favorite Season 7 stars, from Pearl to Violet to Kennedy to Katya. We didn’t make it to any of the panels despite wanting too (Even this shitty one sounded good.) mostly because we didn’t want to wait in all the lines to get in. Again: if you are a super fan, you had your day. For the casual fan? It’s fine. I got to see a few queens I probably could have seen perform, locally, at a club.