It’s show time:
With style
and grace
they shine
in the
spotlight
JL
Story By Mick Dyer
Photos By Butch Ireland
Sunday was a beautiful day.
The sun had burned off the
last remnants of the hard,
steel-grey winter clouds, the crab
apple trees were just beginning to
bloom and the first faint traces of
the apricot and cherry blossoms
floated ever so gently on the cool
spring breeze. The air was electric,
and every breath was like a jolt of
new life. Where there was once
brown earth and bare trees, there
were now green grass, yellow daf
fodils and tiny buds on every living
tree and bush. Everything in sight
was changing, transforming, meta
morphosing.
Everything.
By 8 p.m., they already had a
pretty good jump on the evening.
Mercedes, Champagne Lorraine and
B.B.Q. stood half-naked in front of
the mirrors in the dressing room,
putting on pairs of sheer nylon
stockings, fixing their hair and
applying makeup to their faces.
They didn’t seem to mind that I was
in therewith them. After all, they’re
professionals. Professional female
impersonators. That’s what they
prefer to be called.
“We don’t like drag queen,”'
Mercedes said. “It's a little offen
sive.”
Spirits were high and they talked
and joked and leased each other —
pumping themselves up for the
show at the Boardw alk, KM V 20th
St. Tonight was Mercedes’ and
Champagnes’ night in the spot
light. Champagne is Miss Beauty
and the Beast 1989, an annual city
wide pageant for first-time female
impersonators, and Mercedes is Miss
City Sweetheart 1990, an annual
citywide Valentine’s Day female
impersonator pageant. 'Hus was their
victory show tor winning their
crowns.
By 8.30 p.m., the crowd started
to trickle into the auditorium in the
next room. The guy at the door
came back to the dressing room to
ask Mercedes, Champagne and
B.B.Q. if there was anybody who
should get in free. B.B.Q. gave his
lover’s name. Since members of
both Champagne’s and Mercedes’
families would be in the audience,
they gave their names. The door
man didn’t seem to understand
who Champagne’s mother was.
Champagne said, “she looks like
me in drag.”
While he was putting on a rather
snug blue dress, Mercedes told me
that he and his little sister often
trade clothes.
“She helps me w ith my routine,”
he said. “I buy her rings and things,
and she lets me wear them when 1
perform.”
Around 9pm., TAS11A D’VORE
arrived backstage, already partially
dressed and made up. The strain
began to show on the performers’
faces as they picked up the pace,
trying to be ready for the show by
9:30, the advertised starting time.
Around 9:30 p.m., friends, fam
ily a nd fa ns ca me back lot he dress
ing room to socialize and help w ith
last minute makeup, costume and
music details. The air was so thick
w ith hair spray, makeup fumes and
tension that the place would have
exploded had someone struck a ,
match
Around 10p m , thechange was
more or less complete. Their faces
were ready, the falsies were super
glued to their chests, dresses and
wigs and hats w'ere on, and every
thing was in place.
Mercedes w as now a thin, drop
dead gorgeous, fair-skinned bru
nette with long hair and dark eyes.
Champagne was now a dazzling
dark-skinned knock-out with thick,
beautiful, tightly curled hair and
full sensuous lips.
B H.Q. was now a petite ’20s
style flapper with brown eyes l>ehind
long, thick lashes and pouty, red
lips
I ASHA was now a stunning,
tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed Nor
dic goddess.
If you didn’t know these were
men, you would think they were
very attractive women They could
have been models in any glamour
magazine, for all I knew. I hat’s
who they looked like anyway.
Seriously.
About 10:30 p m.,'I ASHA went
on stage to introduce the show.
Only an hour late, but someone at
the bar told me that 10:30 is like
9:30 “drag-time ”
See FE/MALE on 8
TASHA D VORE sings in the spotlight at the Boardwalk.
