Life's a Drag

In the early evening of Saturday March 5, the third floor of the Union was a flurry of activity. Students bustled in and out of the Ballroom carrying unusual props: feather boas, lighting kits, and bits of brightly colored construction paper. The members of Common Ground, individuals of various sexual orientations come together to promote tolerance and understanding on campus, had been working incessantly for this night of nights to be perfect.

In the hallway, a diminutive figure scurried into the bathroom. From a distance, the person looked like any other student on campus, but on closer inspection, it was a young man wearing an extraordinary mask of makeup. Fine lines and subtle shading accentuated his cheekbones and eyes. When he reentered the hallway, the man shook his hands nervously and bounced on the balls of his feet; like a boxer before a fight.

But this performer had not yet finished his transformation into Dakota Riviera, his alter ego. That would come later after much tucking, primping, and readjusting. Each performer arrived in a different state of metamorphosis. Some arrived already swathed in delicate gowns, their wigs neatly groomed.  Others preferred to wait until the last moment to get into character.

As the audience began to pour into the Ballroom, everyone was jittery and excited. Many had never been to a drag show before and stared wide-eyed at the large Gay Pride flag strung up above the stage. The faint hum of voices rose to a dull roar as spectators found friends to visit with, trying to look less uncomfortable.

Then, with "Out Tonight" from Rent blasting through the speakers, the first drag queen swept onto the stage in a flash of shiny leather and big hair. With impeccable lip-syncing and a well-rehearsed dance routine, Kyla Breeze embodied the fun and boisterous spirit of the night. The audience quickly relaxed and started cheering the queen as she marched through the aisles in 6-inch stilettos—head banging the whole way.

As the song reached its climax, Breeze ran back to the stage and dazzled the audience with unexpected acrobatics—at one point even doing a front flip off the stage.

Each queen made her way onto the stage several times throughout the night, dazzling those watching with their confidence, style, and "eleganza." No performance, or costume for that matter, was ever the same and the audience continued to gasp and laugh just when they thought they had seen the very best already.

But the dancing and music are only part of what makes this, and every drag show so enjoyable. The queens themselves are a veritable beacon of raunchy comedy. The night's performances were frequently punctuated by exclamations of "fondle my llama" and "my duck tape is chaffing."  Miss Kyla Breeze even gave an impromptu mammogram—at the end in which she declared, "Those are Jesus tits!"

These outrageous comments and performances worked for more than just laughs, however. Members of the audience were encouraged to tip the queens with one and five dollar bills. All money given would be sent to the Human Rights Campaign to promote equality and fairness for people of every race, gender, religion and sexual orientation around the globe. For those who had little to give, event organizers were more than willing to proffer their own money so audience members could pass it along to the stars of the night.

This serves as a reminder that these festivities are a luxury not everyone is afforded. Those in the audience enjoyed a celebration of individuality and self-expression that is forbidden in many parts of the world. Luckily, the spectators were a generous lot and eagerly pushed forward to plunge money into the artificial cleavage of the nearest drag queen.

After the show, the exhausted queens began shrugging off their gowns and wiping off their makeup.

"It's actually not that often that people ask questions that delve into who I am as a person," Breeze said with a frown. " But I will gladly answer."

When Miss Kyla Breeze first appeared onstage as a female impersonator in 2005 it was supposed to be a one-time thing. However, she soon discovered that it wasn't much different than theater and she grew up involved in debate, forensics and performance arts.

"My short answer would be that I perform as a drag queen because it's my theater outlet," Breeze said. "It's an escape from reality, it makes me feel youthful, and it fulfills my competitive nature. I really enjoy entering pageants and testing my skill against other performers that enjoy this art enough to take the time to perfect it enough to call it an art."

Tony Highfill is Breeze's real name; that is, when he is not in drag.

 "I do my best to surround myself with positive people, in and out of drag," Breeze said. "And that gives me the backbone and nerve to do what I do. As long as I have an audience to perform to and as long as I'm having fun, I'm going to continue being me; Kyla Breeze and Tony Highfill."

This begs the question, "how does she keep her material friesh?"

"It does take a lot of time and effort to keep things fresh and up-to-date," Breeze said with a knowing smile. "But when you consider this a hobby and not a job... it really stands you apart from the rest."

While those who attended the Drag Show are clearly accepting of her self-expression, there are many who staunchly refuse to do so.

 "Sure there is shade thrown and chatter about who's doing what and how much better or worse, but my motto is simply this: ‘what other people think about me is simply none of my business. Whether people are saying something nice or something mean, it's still publicity'... and that's what we all want, right? To be known..." Breeze said with a laugh. "And why waste the time with petty retaliations when you can surely be spending that effort in making your next costume even that much more fabulous.