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Denver’s Drag Divide: A Transitional Journey

Nic TamayoBy Updated:12 Mins Read

A Look Inside Denver Drag

A bright pink Juicy Couture tracksuit.  A staple in many people’s closets in the early 2000s, it is now catching patrons’ eyes in 2024 at the Sam Gary Library in Denver as Vannah Stockdale enters.   “I felt like I had to just give like a brown neutral smokey eye with a gold glitter during the day, and that’s just not me. This is me. This is extra, but that’s okay, and I love it,” Stockdale says.  Stockdale, who transforms into the captivating Vannah T. Faire when adorned in drag, has become a formidable presence in the Denver drag scene. Hailing from Colorado, Stockdale began her foray into Denver drag in 2018 after beginning her gender transition in high school. 
“But I knew that I would be more upset forcing myself to play the male role for the next two to three years, so I just said, ‘Let’s do it,’ and kind of threw myself into the beginning of my transition,” Vannah Stockdale (A.K.A. Vannah T. Faire) Denver drag artist and co-founder of Club Uphoria
“My mom had already wondered some things,” Stockdale recalled recently, “And I told her, I said, ‘Mom, I think I am a woman.’ And she’s like, ‘Well, do you mean on stage? Do you mean, you know, every day? Like, what, what do you mean?’ And I looked at her, and I was like, ‘I don’t know.’” “‘Yes, and …’ That is the correct answer to that question,” Stockdale adds. “But during that time, I didn’t even know enough about myself to answer. But I knew that I would be more upset forcing myself to play the male role for the next two to three years, so I just said, ‘Let’s do it’ and kind of threw myself into the beginning of my transition.”   Yet when Stockdale, as Vannah T. Faire, entered the Denver drag scene, she found she wasn’t always welcomed with open arms. Just as her mother questioned her, men who donned women’s clothing to do drag here also raised eyebrows. Was Stockdale, as a trans woman, going through the physical process of transforming a male body into a female body, crossing a line in the art of drag? Transgender people often face enduring pressure to conform to societal norms, especially regarding gender roles including physical attributes. This perpetual need to present themselves in a certain way, even in spaces meant for acceptance like the drag scene, can be mentally taxing and detrimental for mental health. Individuals often feel they have to constantly monitor their behavior to avoid judgment, making it challenging to relax and be authentic. The history of transgender people and drag queens is complicated yet profoundly intertwined. It reflects the evolving nature of gender identity and the dynamic expression of self. The origins of this intersection can be linked to significant moments in LGBTQ+ history, with the most notable example being the Stonewall Riots of 1969. Key figures such as Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, both transgender women of color and drag queens, actively shaped these events, laying the foundation for including transgender individuals in the drag scene. Drag culture progressed in the 1970s and 1980s with the emergence of transgender queens like Flawless Sabrina and Angie Xtravaganza. These trailblazers challenged societal norms and broadened the perception of drag as an art form. Today, Stockdale stands as part of this legacy, actively participating in the ongoing narrative that aims to applaud diversity and reshape the limits of drag. Despite the strides toward inclusivity, transgender drag queens often face resistance and backlash within the LGBTQ+ community. The debate over the essence of drag intensifies when transgender performers enter the scene, challenging preconceived notions and calling into question what defines drag. The discussion surrounding who is entitled to participate in drag and the reasons behind it garnered heightened attention in 2018. This surge in awareness occurred when RuPaul, a prominent drag performer and the host of RuPaul’s Drag Race, expressed views in an interview that were critical of transgender drag queens.  “Drag loses its sense of danger and its sense of irony once it’s not men doing it because, at its core, it’s a social statement and a big f-you to male-dominated culture,” he said during that time. “You can identify as a woman and say you’re transitioning, but it changes once you start changing your body. It takes on a different thing. It changes the whole concept of what we’re doing.” RuPaul later rescinded his comments, and the first transgender drag queen, Gottmik, appeared on RuPaul’s Drag Race in Season 13. The ongoing discourse within the drag and LGBTQ+ community centers on the question of whether drag retains its status as an art form with the inclusion of transgender individuals. Traditional viewpoints assert the need to defend drag’s historical origins, claiming that drag fundamentally involves cisgender men adopting hyper-feminine personas. On the other hand, progressive voices champion a broader interpretation of drag, one that welcomes the richness of gender expressions and identities through art. Transgender drag queens like Stockdale are at the forefront of working to shift this notion, asserting that drag is an inclusive art form, highlighting the transformative potential of the stage in breaking down societal barriers and redefining gender norms. As part of creating a transgender-inclusive drag space, Stockdale and fellow transgender drag queen Amayas Gonzalez (who performs under the name La Vladimira X) founded Club Uphoria, a “trans-centered fashion-forward party for everyone” that moves between various venues in the Denver drag scene.  Debuting in the spring of 2023, Club Uphoira provides a platform for transgender drag performers to express themselves through a blend of singing, dancing, drag, performance art, and burlesque. Stockdale views the club as an ideal fusion of a vibrant nightclub atmosphere and a nurturing support network. “It was sort of like a gap in our community as far as places for us to exist,” Stockdale says. “We’ve already talked about how trans people are often unsafe. Even in safer places like Denver, there’s always going to be someone who could think differently than you.” She adds, “Even in spaces that were made for us, there were still put on us to appear a certain way. Club Uphoria is the answer to that. We have a soft spot for fashion, so we wanted to do our slogan as a fashion-forward, trans-centered space party for everybody, by trans people. I think that is what was important. There’s a lot of things within our community that are so special. We wanted to create something that just solely celebrated us.” When founding Club Uphoria, Gonzalez and Stockdale saw that the space for gender nonconforming and transgender individuals performing in drag was narrow, if not almost non-existent, in Denver drag.  For Gonzalez, drag has been a part of their life since they were 15 years old, which started with their first performance of Lady Gaga’s “Fashion.” From experimenting with their makeup routine in the car on the way to drag shows and changing their drag name to find one unique to them, Gonzalez found their authentic self within the drag community, which drove them to build a space such as Club Uphoria, which celebrates transgender individuals.  This new persona on stage was not the self that was curated for the wants of others to see, but it was one entirely genuine for Gonzalez’s identity. The drag that Gonzales eventually came to embody led to confidence on and offstage.  “I changed my drag name three times and my look about 150 times,” Gonzalez says while carefully applying their winged eyeliner. “Every club, pretty much—They love our bodies, but they don’t love us. It’s necessary for trans folks to be in a space where there is transness.”  When speaking about why Club Uphoria is a crucial space for transgender inclusivity in the drag community, Gonzalez highlights the immense importance of being true to your character and confidence to get past the judgment of others. “I think when I was at my least confident, I allowed myself to feel worse about everything. I was so worried about how Sally Anne said hello, and I can’t be so worried about things I can’t control. Nobody can make me feel unsafe. There’s a sense of responsibility to myself, but what’s more important is me living my life.” 
“I can’t be so worried about things I can’t control. Nobody can make me feel unsafe. There’s a sense of responsibility to myself, but what’s more important is me living my life.” Amayas Gonzalez (A.K.A. La Vladimira X) Denver/NYC-based drag artist and co-founder Club Uphoria
One significant way that transgender drag queens can receive support is by being part of a “house” and having a “drag mother” who offers them guidance and encouragement. These houses act as chosen families within the drag community, providing an environment of mentorship through advice, acceptance, and a sense of belonging. Within drag culture, houses are typically led by a respected Denver drag queen within the community known as the drag mother. The mother is the house matriarch, taking on responsibilities such as mentoring, offering financial and emotional assistance, and nurturing familial bonds with their “children” or “drag daughters/sons.” For transgender drag queens who may have experienced rejection or opposition from their blood families, being part of a drag house can provide support and a feeling of inclusion. An influential figure in the Denverdrag scene, and the mother of the House of Misdemeanor, is Theariale St. Cyr, better known under their stage name, Felony Misdemeanor. Felony recalls how her journey into becoming a drag mother in the community began unexpectedly.    “It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she explains. However, fate intervened when Felony crossed paths with her first drag daughter, Minor Misdemeanor, during a performance. “He was just dancing his ass off, and we became friends,” says Felony. Minor first suggested forming a drag family, and Felony enthusiastically embraced it. Eventually, she named her drag family the “House of Misdemeanor” to match their shared stage name. Over her remarkable 23 years in drag, Felony has witnessed countless queens, including those who identify as transgender, discover their true identities through drag. “Drag is definitely a stepping stool for them,” she says. “I’ve seen a lot of girls start in drag and eventually find themselves through drag.” This holds true for trans individuals, as Felony points out that her own drag mother discovered her trans identity through drag. 
“That goes back to always being your most authentic self, be who you are at all times,” she says. “I am Felony; Felony is me. It’s just an extension.” Theariale St. Cyr (A.K.A. Felony Misdemeanor) Denver drag artist and Mother of the House of Misdemeanor
One of Felony’s drag children is Fallon Rose Dalton, known in drag as Freya Misdemeanor. Hailing from Florida, Freya came out as transgender three years after starting her drag career. Freya says, “In order to feel more ‘drag’ and not just like my normal self, it makes me want to push my drag harder to be the best it can be. All drag is valid! And anything can be considered drag. We all do drag every day—Drag is very vast.” As a mother within the Denver drag community, Felony has been instrumental in guiding her children, including those who are transgender, towards embracing authenticity and self-confidence on and off-stage. She stresses the importance of accepting their true identities while encouraging them not to separate themselves from their on-stage personas. “You don’t have to separate who you are from your drag persona. I don’t suggest separating the two at all because then that develops some kind of little internal turmoil that’s unnecessary. That goes back to always being your most authentic self, be who you are at all times,” she says. “I am Felony; Felony is me. It’s just an extension.” For Felony, the essence of drag lies in embracing one’s authentic self at all times while finding a harmonious balance of identity and persona through the art of drag. 

Glossary of Drag Terms

Cunt: A word describing the embodiment of femininity. It can be a feeling, an emotion, an energy, a compliment, or anything, really.  Reading: To skillfully and sharply reveal someone’s shortcomings (“reading them like a book”), typically with embellishments or exaggerations, represents a sophisticated level of insult. Kiki: A playful conversation between two queer people. Widely used as a noun or a verb to describe an interaction between two or more drag artists.  Shade: A subtle insult or put-down that is often delivered by bluntly pointing out a person’s flaws or faults, usually in a humorous or playful way. Werq/Werk: An affirmation used to encourage and uplift others and oneself, it has a similar connotation to “go get it” or “you can do this.” It can also be a filler word, like “yes” or “uh-huh” Ballroom: Refers to a competitive subculture known for its extravagant events, called “balls,” where drag queens showcase talents like voguing, runway walking, and lip-syncing. Serve or Slay: To present with style, confidence, and flair, often in drag shows; to embody a particular look or attitude with excellence and charisma.  Tea: Used as a term for gossip, news, or information. “What’s the tea?”  Bitch: A fierce woman or a friend. Used as a term of endearment among drag queens or as a term of exasperation Featured image courtesy of Nicole Lindsey, CU News Corps Aspen Bentley and Nicole Lindsey reported for this story as well.
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