When I interviewed drag artist and academic Ibi Profane for June’s Pride Month episode of Planorama’s ‘Queer Student’ podcast, I was dying to know their thoughts on how the popularisation of drag in mainstream culture, particularly through the success of RuPaul’s Drag Race, has impacted the artform.

Ibi’s drag is experimental, bold, and conceptual. It refuses to be pinned down by the aesthetic boundaries laid down by RuPaul and her shows, including, but not limited to: wearing padding, a breastplate, and gluing down a lace-front wig. I suspect they have strong opinions on such a topic.

“RuPaul, as a franchise, has done some incredible things for drag… with that, it has unfortunately narrowed the field with what people expect from drag.

“It’s given opportunities to queer people in ways which no franchise has. But on the flip side, it has meant that for drag to marketable, we have lost some of the queerness. The sharp edge of parody. The sharp edge of politics. The sharp edge of social commentary. That’s not marketable. 

“Unintentionally, it has invalidated certain kinds of drag. There’s been a removal of the irony of drag in a certain way. People come in thinking that this is what drag queens do.”

Over the last decade, presentations of drag have exploded in mainstream popular culture. Arguably, largely thanks to the RuPaul’s Drag Race empire, drag has never been so familiar to the general public. But with familiarity, comes expectation and with expectation - comes judgement. 

The so called “Rupaul-ification” of drag is the idea that in order for drag to be recognised as valid in the mainstream, it must fit under a particular aesthetic popularised by RuPaul’s ‘Glamazon’ style and appearance. Perfect makeup, big hair, bodacious curves, and custom-fitted outfits which ‘drag’ the bank balances of budding queens into oblivion… It has become the normal to expect queens of any stature on any stage to be immaculate in every respect. Their mugs must be beaten. Their hair must be human. Their lips must be synced. Beyoncé should be under the play-button of their stereos and at the drop of a beat they must be ready to jump-split from a 3m box and shablam to the ground without so much of twitch from their groins. Oh – and in six-inch platform heels, obviously. 

Such expectations have limited many people’s idea of what drag can do as an artform – the questions it can ask of the status-quo – the subsequent boundaries it may push. 

Drag has forever been at the heart of queer politics and the LGBTQ+ movement. Drag is inherently arresting, uncompromising, and striking. Drag takes in its hands the social rulebook for the gender binary, scribbles over the pages, rips them out and rewrites them. Drag enables you to be anyone you want. 

It thus makes sense that at a time when conservatives (small ‘c’) and members of the far-right are beginning to infringe upon the rights and progress we have achieved over the last few decades, drag queens are also at the centre of the storm. In the USA, attacks on trans-rights and the moral panic surrounding so called ‘gender ideology’ have led to serious legislation being passed to limit and restrict drag performances. In Montana and Tennessee, drag performances are explicitly restricted in the legislature, whilst four other states have laws about “adult” or “sexual” performances which may be used to target drag. In the UK, protests outside ‘drag story hours’ have been creeping into the headlines, in addition to extreme anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric used by prominent Conservative politicians.

Surely then, drag is as needed now as it’s ever been. Not only to resist such regressive politics, but to empower young queer people who may feel silenced by them. 

This is why it’s so important that we don’t police what drag can be, as such judgement will only suppress expressions of and experiments with drag in our community. Take for instance Queen of the Mother-Tucking world Tia Kofi. She admitted to spending over £20,000 on her looks for her latest winning appearance on Drag Race, describing in a BBC article that “prices have inflated above the odds.” Subsequently younger, newer queens must contend with this precedent, with Raiine, a young Brighton performer, stating in the same article that “if people’s viewpoint of drag is Drag Race, they’re gonna expect that level and calibre of outfits from drag queens they see day to day.” 

Drag Race is a wonderful show. As Ibi Profane said, it’s given opportunities to queer performers previously unfeasible. But whilst we should celebrate the impeccable level of artistry on display in the show, we also shouldn’t hold that as the standard for “good” drag across the board.

As we’ve seen with events such as Warwick Pride and Warwick Drag Race, there is a space available for every kind of drag – that is what makes those events so special. Queens, kings, non-binary deities – whomever you want to be – such expression cuts to the heart of the very queerness drag emboldens, the very queerness no political force will ever be able to erase.