SF’s new wave of drag queens rebel against glam
(see video at the link)
Applying the white Kryolan foundation is the first step. It conceals the eyebrows and spackles out the five o’clock shadow. A swipe of beige then bisects the forehead like an ancient warrior’s mask. Finally, an aqua-polished finger pats glitter into the beard, and after almost an hour “painting,” the first stage of getting into drag is almost done.
“It’s a pure form of art in that there are no rules,” says Adam Lash, known in San Francisco’s drag world as Terri “Waffle” (The Chronicle is unable to print Lash’s full stage name due to its anatomical nature). “In some ways, you can do whatever you want.”
Greg Tartaglione (drag name Mama Celeste) and Patrick Santos (Cash Monet) look up from their shared mirror on the makeshift dressing table in Lash’s Mission District apartment. The three men’s broadly drawn, expressionistic faces are an intentionally strong contrast to their chest hair and masculine builds. These San Francisco queens are not interested in being pretty.
Lash pivots in his chair and faces his fellow performers.
“My parents want me to be a normal actor,” he says. “But I’d rather create my own character.”
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