Hello darlings! Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood time-travelling ballerina drag queen. Welcome to Pink Tutu Time Travels, my monthly peek into the vibrant world of drag history. Grab a cuppa, put on your fanciest frock, and settle in as we take a glamorous trip to the past...
Today's adventure sees us swirling through the time-space continuum to March 3rd, 1962, landing smack-bang in the swinging sixties! Now, I must admit, I've been longing to visit this era for ages. Just imagine the beehives, the bright colours, and the sheer fabulousness! You simply couldn't beat the sass of the 1960s for drag!
I've had my magical pink tutu prepped, with all the bells and whistles (literally! It's a real twirly affair) ready to dazzle those groovy cats of the 60s. This month's adventure, however, wasn't without its hiccups! The time-space continuum can be quite temperamental you know. The minute I jumped into my tutu, it flung me right into a massive time-space blizzard. The sort that gives you chills right down your fabulous feather boa!
I got stuck right smack in the middle of a hokey-cokey, a proper old-school London pub brawl, with patrons chucking peanuts at each other and everything! Turns out, 1962 had a distinct lack of "it's a free country" mentality. As much as I love a bit of good, clean fun, this whole brawl thing wasn't quite my cup of tea! Still, in true drag fashion, I sashayed out of there, a whirlwind of pink feathers and glitter, leaving everyone completely baffled!
Once I'd gathered myself and got my glitter fix at the local Boots (they even had pink nail polish in 1962!), I hit the streets of London. Oh my, the energy! This city pulsated with the kind of vibrant chaos that gives you a rush! Think neon lights, shiny cars, and an intoxicating cocktail of pop culture that wouldn't be out of place in the drag queen world!
And speaking of drag, what a joy it was to witness the vibrant drag scene of 1962! It was so different to the polished, theatrical drag we're used to now. The performances had an unfiltered, almost rebellious charm. A bit raw around the edges, sure, but incredibly engaging!
As for the shows, it seemed every pub, club and theater had a "lady" on stage. And I’m talking REAL "ladies," my darlings. You could have your choice of a beautiful trans woman in full drag or a hilarious man channeling camp queen with more wit than a box of Crackerjacks! It was a melting pot of talent, styles, and, yes, the odd sequinned mishap, but I wouldn't have it any other way. It was pure, unadulterated drag in all its messy glory.
Here's a quick rundown of what was happening on the drag scene on that iconic March 3rd:
- The King’s Head Theatre was hosting the wonderfully named "Ladies Night." It's believed this night hosted "The Gay Night" performers, with men impersonating women - perhaps this is how some of the more traditional camp drag styles became so famous!
- The Flamingo Club, a haven of cabaret, music and the flamboyant. This was the kind of club you'd find packed with fabulous queens strutting their stuff to the latest jazz tunes, all decked out in glittering dresses and flamboyant wigs.
- The Parisian was the place to see the avant-garde. We are talking true artistic drag, think theatre troupes, experimental pieces, and some questionable choices (the feathered hats I'm looking at right now might just be a drag queen's fashion faux pas, darling!). It is believed to be the inspiration for London’s first "gay night" on December 8, 1962 (this was all hush-hush, obviously).
I managed to catch the finale of one of the Flamingo Club's "lady" acts and was floored! This amazing drag queen was belting out an earsplitting version of the Beatles’ newest hit, "Love Me Do", while dancing a frantic Charleston! The energy in the room was palpable, you could practically feel the music!
To see so much unfiltered talent on display, knowing how hard these amazing drag queens were pushing boundaries and celebrating themselves... it really brought home how drag is a defiant art form that defies expectations and breaks down barriers.
The whole experience made me realize something: 1962 was a time of immense change. Society was transitioning from rigid conventions to a more fluid, expressive era. The drag queens of the time were paving the way for a more inclusive future, even if it was only one small step at a time.
Now, before you think I'm waxing poetic about this whole drag-history adventure, let me tell you, it was not without its fashion hiccups! I got stuck in a torrential downpour right in the middle of Soho, a fabulous whirlwind of rain and wind! Thankfully, my tutu was up to the challenge, surviving a soggy and muddy encounter with the streets of London.
Still, I wouldn’t trade the experience for all the glitter in the world! Time-travelling with a pink tutu truly brings me the ultimate drag thrill: seeing how this art form evolves, celebrating the heroes of the past, and hopefully, inspiring everyone to wear a pink tutu, one step at a time!
That’s all for this month, darlings! Tune in next time for another fabulously sparkly drag-tastic time travel! Until then, stay fierce, keep shimmering, and always remember to twirl with joy!
Love and glitter, Emma x
P.S. If you're interested in learning more about the history of drag in the 1960s, check out my blog at www.pink-tutu.com! I've got loads more posts detailing my time travel adventures, featuring more fab stories from the past and loads of drag-tastic resources!
P.P.S. Be sure to follow my drag journey on Instagram at @PinkTutuEmma! We can have a right old time on there, with fabulous selfies and updates on all the fun I'm having at my next drag show! You know I wouldn’t leave you high and dry.
