You’ll know you’re walking into a drag queen’s workspace when you smell the chemical, acetone-like odor of E6000. On a couch under the warm lamplight in her living room, with an embellishment tool in hand, Seattle drag queen Crystyl Jewyl Box sits, embellishing a pair of shoes one gemstone at a time.
Box, who requested anonymity for employment reasons, was preparing to hopefully bring home the title of Miss Gay Seattle at the upcoming Imperial Sovereign Court of Seattle’s 60th Gay Seattle annual pageant, which was held at Neighbours Nightclub in Capitol Hill on Nov. 10. To help her prepare, Box’s friend Dennis Jimmerson, better known in drag circles as Regine SJ Dynasty, came over to work on her outfit for the evening gown category, a mermaid-style number bedazzled with blue and yellow sequins.
As Jimmerson assisted Box with fitting the outfit, the sense of the space shifted from that pervasive odor of craft glue to an aura exuding camaraderie and motherhood. It was like watching a mother dress up their child for their first ball — and that’s drag pageant culture. Drag pageantry transcends mere performance, instead serving as a beacon of personal growth, cultural preservation and collective healing and connection.
The divergence of drag
Drag pageantry is distinct from drag’s more familiar side, nightclub performances. While traditional drag performances often revolve around individual creativity and audience connection, pageantry introduces structure, competition and a deeper sense of responsibility, explained Versace Doll, the reigning Miss Gay Washington United States at Large.
“Just like Miss Universe, Miss America — it’s the exact same thing,” Doll said. “We still have the things we have to do as the preliminary titleholder. But there’s also a list of things we have to uphold and do as the national representative.”
As titleholders, Doll said, winners have to consistently present themselves with professionalism and excellence, because the culture expects them to represent not just themselves but the entire system.
While the pageant is a competition, Doll stressed the importance of community.
“Most entertainers understand the level of competitiveness,” Doll said. “At the end of the day, we’re all here to entertain and support each other. … Whether you win or lose, it’s about the joy of performing and the people you meet along the way.”
Beyond requirements around their appearance, Doll said that titleholders are also expected to support the queer and pageant community, stepping in when needed at events and maintaining a strong code of ethics. Especially in today’s political climate, she said, pageant winners’ actions carry significant weight, reflecting the values and reputation of the pageant system as a whole.
According to Box, pageantry is unlike regular drag shows, which typically consist of one or two three-minute acts. On the other hand, pageantry involves rigorous preparation across multiple categories, including evening gown, talent and interview segments. These events demand not only exceptional skill but also emotional resilience and significant financial investment.
Within the pageantry system, imperial courts have their own specific differences too. Instead of having a judging panel — like for Miss Continental, one of the prestigious pageant events in the drag community — at the Imperial Sovereign Court of Seattle, the community votes for the next title holder.
For Geoffrey Lamb-Golliet, board president of the Imperial Sovereign Court of Seattle known as Deeva Devareaux St. Laurent in drag, pageantry is more than competition — it’s about rebuilding the imperial court system, especially after the pandemic. The court’s mission, rooted in charity, has remained a cornerstone of Lamb-Golliet’s involvement for 17 years.
“Our organization is built around the premise that we are a 501(c)(3) [nonprofit], and we help other 501(c)(3)s, and we raise money to help other 501(c)(3)s,” Lamb-Golliet said.
Events like the Court’s annual crowning of Mr., Ms. and Mx. Gay Seattle have become symbols of resilience and solidarity within the LGBTQ+ community, according to Lamb-Golliet, particularly during challenging times, such as the 1980s.
“These traditions helped us through crises, like the AIDS epidemic, providing balance and unity in dark times,” Lamb-Golliet said. “Having lived with that and, you know, the loss of friends at any moment, sometimes [pageantry was] the only time you get to see or catch up with some of your friends, because real life happens for one or both people.”
Additionally, Lamb-Golliet believes these spaces create the opportunity to expand this network.
“You meet people from all over the country, and many of those friendships last a lifetime,” Lamb-Golliet said. “It’s not just about competition — it’s about building a community.”
A lifeline to self-acceptance
Onstage at Neighbours on the night of the pageant, Box pulled strands of pearls out of her cleavage as she finished her lipsync of “Pearls” by Jessie Ware, her talent showcase for the night. The open-floor stage allowed the performers to be up close to their audience, witnessing the magic of drag from mere feet away.
During the question-and-answer portion of the pageant, Box was asked, “This title involves not only representing the court and the LGBTQ community but also supporting and uplifting it. How would you use this platform to create a positive change and foster inclusivity?”
“I love that question,” Box said in her response, looking out over the audience. “Okay, so what I’m gonna say is in light of this last week’s things: Being ourselves, just existing in the world and us being just who we are is an act of resistance against white supremacy.”
The crowd burst into cheers, showing approval of Box’s answer.
“Us creating spaces, when we celebrate ourselves and celebrate the joy of our community, is really putting it in the face of everything,” she continued. “And so that is the most important thing we can do in this time and this day and this age to make sure that we get to the place where we are and we can be and we are authentically as our whole authentic selves.”
Authenticity is key for many performers, for whom drag is not just entertainment but a journey of self-discovery. Box found drag during a transition period in her life.
“I was going through a separation in my marriage and felt like parts of me were missing — parts I had forgotten,” Box said.
Drag became a way for her to reconnect with her identity and bring joy back into her life. Box remembers the transformative moment when she saw her face fully done up for the first time.
“It was like seeing a part of myself I hadn’t seen in 20 years. I looked in the mirror and said, ’Oh, it’s you,’” she said.
However, Box’s relationship with drag — and beauty itself — has evolved over the years.
Reflecting on where she belongs within the current beauty standards of drag, she said, “To be honest, I don’t know where I fit; all I can do is the best with what I got.”
Box’s self-discovery has extended to social media; platforms like TikTok have allowed her to explore and share her transformations.
“After I started my TikTok, I used to do those transformation videos, and I watched those over and over and over,” she said. “I felt a sense of euphoria seeing myself expressed in high femme.”
At the end of the night, Jack of Spades Paradisco took home the crown of Mx. Gay Seattle V, and Trauma Queenie bagged Ms. Gay Seattle ’24-’25. Ultimately, Box lost: Local drag queen Sacred Heart was crowned Miss Gay Seattle 2024. However, Box said it’s not always about winning; what matters the most to her is her ability to connect and express her truth.
Pageantry is a history lesson
The Imperial Court of Seattle annual Gay Seattle pageant wasn’t like just any drag event, especially in regards to the variety of demographic groups present. From the pioneers of the queer community to “baby queens,” everyone who there was welcomed to the space that night.
For Lamb-Golliet, seasoned queens’ lack of ability to do acrobatics or stunts in their performances at their age may overshadow their legacy when competing. However, he shared, it was important to take note of the way legacy queens have had to present themselves.
“Most of the older ones are also from the mindset of ‘you have to be able to pass out in the streets as a woman,’ because it was safe,” Lamb-Golliet said. “If you could pass, you are safe. For lack of a better term, [if you] look like a boy in the dress, depending on where you live, there [was] a possibility that you could actually get beaten up, if not killed. And so the more seasoned and older queens, they learn to kind of tone makeup down a little bit and make … themselves look like a [cis] woman.”
Lamb-Golliet added that while younger and older queens may have their differences, he loves seeing them together because it gives the chance to witness the evolution of drag.
A legacy of empowerment
For Lamb-Golliett, as drag pageantry continues to evolve, its core mission remains unchanged: to celebrate individuality, foster community and create spaces for self-expression.
He believes competing in pageants should be about more than winning the crown. It’s about laying the foundation for the future generations.
“We are all bricks in the road for those who come after us,” Lamb-Golliett said. “That’s the only way we move forward.”
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