Peaches Christ wants to make sure artists young and old, dead and living, are properly celebrated. That’s true whether she’s mentoring future Drag Race winners or writing a show with her idol turned friend, Mink Stole.

Every time I have gotten the opportunity to do mediocre drag as a beginner, I have had some of the most fun a person can have.

There’s nothing inherently more lesbian about watching two famous cishet Rachels playact queerness than watching a nonbinary drag queen kiss the shoulder of a trans woman drag queen.

Spaces that center and uplift Black performers create a magic you can feel. Meet seven of Washington D.C.’s drag and burlesque performers bringing palpable Black queer joy to the stage.

Minutes before I saw Poison Ivory pour champagne down her back and watch it drip between her legs, I knew seeing this black burlesque performer would evoke Power.

I looked less and less like my mother— the image of womanhood I grew up with — and I was scared. Was she disappointed that I wasn’t like her? Did my femininity disappoint her? At the same time, I worried about being too masculine: people would know I wasn’t straight. I was angry: my mother taught me to be proud of who I was, but what if who I was becoming wasn’t good enough?