7 Times a Charm

After 14 glamorous weeks, the seventh season of Drag Race has come to a close.  Though this was perhaps not the most astonishing season, it was not without its highlights.  Granted there were elimination shenanigans, a bizarre new Untucked format, several baffling “acting” challenges and more than a few runway disasters, but it is to the show’s credit that their core audience is still clamoring for more.  In the words of the immortal sage Laganja Estranja, “C’mon Season 8!”

This year’s top three was especially eclectic.  Glamorous hobgoblin Ginger Minj rose from the depths of the Florida swamps to stake her claim in the Drag Queefdom.  Meanwhile sassy somnambulist Pearl crab walked down the runway and into our hearts but in the end it was the beautiful, if somewhat empty, Violet Chachki who ran away with the crown.  Ginger fought valiantly for the title and for a while it seemed like she was most equipped to carry the crown.  It’s a pity that she caved into pageant drama backbiting towards the end, as it wound up turning the audience against her.  Having decidedly lost in online opinion polls, and with Pearl’s complete and total dearth of personality (or as others call it, charisma) rendering her incapable of carrying the title, the final prize ultimately had to go to Violet Chachki.  I realize that Violet isn’t the most exciting winner but I think she might be good for the audience.  Throughout the entire competition Violet’s saving grace was her unwavering confidence. Here is someone completely in control of herself, her emotions, her fate, and her destiny.  She didn’t ride to the crown off of a tragic backstory nor did she ever dwell on trauma.  It was refreshing to see someone eschew the tried and true Reality TV staples of victimhood and sympathy in favor of their own natural power.  The gay community far too often dwells on suffering and trauma. Violet had no time for that; she was too busy kicking ass.  This is the sort of attitude that is the future of the gay community, even if her art isn’t.  Besides, it was time for a porn star to finally win RuPaul’s Drag Race.

There’s been a lot of hemming and hawing in the blogosphere about this being the weakest season, but I think that there were still plenty of artistic high notes.  Katya was a particular delight and her Zdravstvuyte Kitty doll is destined to generate millions for Sanrio.  John Waters finally made an appearance on Drag Race (that blazer alone made it all worthwhile) with the Dreamlander musical challenge inspiring 14-year-olds everywhere to google Pink Flamingos.  Despite all the shit talking about season 7 not being funny, this year’s Snatch Game was first time anal tight.  I needed an entire tube of KY just to get through it.  And above all, let us never forget that it was season 7 that gave us the gift of Trixie Mattel.  Bless you, RuPaul.

Last year I was perhaps a bit harsh in my contestant rundown.  Rather than dwelling on negativity (I would be loath to be in anyway pessimistic or cynical on The Embittered Queen) I’m going to take a different tack this year.  Following the example set in the DESPY Awards challenge, instead of reading the queens I shall instead award them for their outstanding contributions to the art of cross dressing.  I present to you The Dildy Awards: Honoring Excellence in the Field of Transvestism.

And the award goes to…

Tempest DuJour: Most Outstanding DILF

Sasha Belle: Best Kim Zolciak Illusion

Jasmine Masters: Most Impractical Earrings

Mrs. Kasha Davis: Most Inventive Use of a Depends Undergarment

Kandy Ho: Filler Queen Par Excellence

Max: Most Inventive Color Scheme

Jaidynn Diore Fierce: Best Pec-Titties (This award brought to you by Burger King, in collaboration with White Castle and Long John Silvers.)

Miss Fame: Best Nude Spread

Trixie Mattel: Tastiest Nuggets in All the Land (Seriously, who knew Ronald McDonald looked so good as a blonde?)

Katya: Best Cultural Hijacking

Kennedy: Best Pube Beard

Pearl: Most Likely to Star in a Breeding Porn

Ginger: Most Prodigious Use of Black Spray Paint

Violet: Best Erotic Massage

Congratulations, Ladies!

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Tears of a Clown: The Trixie Mattel Story

RuPaul’s Drag Race is perhaps the most convincing argument for owning a television.  Drag Race is a reliably entertaining program but its greatest service to humanity is its yearly introduction of fabulous new entertainers who would otherwise be ignored by the mainstream media.   Each year Drag Race presents us with an intriguing mix of the extremely glamorous and the mentally ill.  The illustrious lineup of RuPaul’s Drag Race is generally comprised of a steady stream of washed up reality stars and amateur porn stars, but this season they gave us sometime truly special.  I refer to none other than the supreme ingénue of The Cream City, Miss Trixie Mattel.  Behold:

For those who don’t know, Trixie Mattel is a drag vixen, a comic, a supermodel and the world’s whitest Indian.  Trixie is acclaimed for all her talents, but she is perhaps most revered for her masterful visual artistry.  Trixie Mattel is essentially the aborted aesthetic lovechild of Lisa Frank and Bozo the Clown.  We’ll never know if Bozo ever discovered the erotic allure of cross dressing, but if he ever did, chances are he would sport a very close resemblance to Trixie Mattel.

The artistry of Trixie Mattel is so great that it defies classification.  It’s hard to pin her down.  I could say that Trixie resembles a partially deflated heat damaged blow up doll, but that doesn’t quite encapsulate her powdered, pulpy essence.  I could say the she resembles a My Size Barbie doll that’s been weathered by the elements, but I’m still not quite there.  I could even go so far as to proclaim that she is the realization of Tim Curry in It as styled by Betsey Johnson, but that still doesn’t quite nail it.  Words can’t do Trixie justice.  You simply have to experience Trixie Mattel firsthand.  It’s a terrifying spectacle but one that you’ll never forget.

I thank RuPaul for finding it in her infinite wisdom to introduce Miss Mattel to the masses.  The world needs Trixie Mattel.  Not since Monique Alan have I witnessed someone so completely devoted to the pursuit of glamor.  We live in a world soaked past saturation in pretty and it’s nauseating.  Our culture is drowning in Kardashian cute, Katy Perry pretty, Taylor Swift fluff… and it’s totally gross.  The tropes of contemporary fashion do nothing to move my spirit, although they regularly move my bowels.

Trixie Mattel represents pure, unbridled glamor and we should revere her for all that she does.  What’s more, Trixie doesn’t merely titillate, she teaches.  Her coloring book, available for free at www.TrixieMattel.com, is an invaluable tool in educating small children about the glories of transvestism.  Furthermore the stylistic sample set by Miss Mattel can elevate anyone’s fashion game.  Trixie shows us that one’s lips can never be too big, nor their ass too padded, and her fearless use of fascinators is the most inspired use of a headpiece since Aretha Franklin’s iconic headpiece at Obama’s 2009 inauguration.

It would seem that Trixie Mattel has lead us to a new stylistic golden age yet suddenly, a mere four weeks after discovering her, tragedy struck.  Somehow, someway, in some terrifying alternate reality, RuPaul saw fit to send Trixie Mattel home after her 4th week on Drag Race.  This is incomprehensible given her awe inspiring artistry.  We can only imagine how Trixie feels about being defeating in a lipsync battle by a partially sedated woman in a shapeless onesie, but the sting of rejection will not be soon forgotten by her legions of fans.  The twittersphere was quick to declare its outrage, with the hashtag #JusticeForTrixie blowing up the twitter feeds of homosexuals the world over.  I fear that this outrage will burn out and fade away all too quickly.  We must hang on to our anger and never let it go.  I believe it was Edmund Burke who said that the only thing necessary for the triumph of busted drag is for good queens to do nothing.  If you are a true student of glamor, I implore you, grab your pitchfork and flaming torch and storm the offices of Logo TV.  Let them know that we demand vengeance.  We demand justice.  We demand Trixie.

If you’ve ever been scorned for your fashion principles, Trixie knows your pain.  For those that have been mocked for wearing that extra coat of lip gloss, that extra set of falsies, or half a couch worth of padding, Trixie is your redemption.  She represents victory over a sad, drab society.  Following Miss Mattel’s example, we will be lead not into trendy temptation, and delivered from busted evil.  Trixie, show us the way.