It is always a pleasure to get to meet the ladies at Carnival. Drag culture has been around since little boys started trying on their mothers’ clothes. And breaking through those rigid dresscodes. Now men can wear women’s clothes- within the safe confines of a gay picnic, sans ridicule. Street-wise, we’ve still got a long way to go.
This one has sparkly hair, a large pearl necklace and a tribal tattoo on her chest. Almost makes the sun shine brighter than Doris Day. I suspect she may have something unwholesome in her basket. Though that’s one of the thrills of encountering a Drag Queen.
This Eliza Doolittle would have done George Bernard Shaw very proud.
Green themed superhero with candy floss hair.
It takes a lot of attitude and double-jointedness to pull off this Mickey Mouse-tutu-cons ensemble. And a whole lot of drag make-up. I think the red stubble is very becoming.
Slip, slop, slap. Slip on a dress, slop on the sunscreen, and slap open that umbrella. I must mention that it was a beautiful sunny day for it.
And then there is this photo, which is very dear. Before I took the picture, she spent a moment to briskly fuss over his cap in a lovely nurturing fashion.