Daphne's Debut

(Daphne feelin' it at the Armory with Alexandria, Diamond and Gigi.)

Girl, last weekend I had my drag endurance tested to its limits. As most of you know, I entered Ziggy's Big Fat Talent Extraordinaire Extravaganza with my Christina Aguilera “Fighter” number. I was a huge hit in my brand new yellow japanimation wig and my crimson fighter’s robe. Of course, it didn’t hurt that 30 of my nearest and dearest friends showed up to cheer me on.

Even Candy Jenkins, newly arrived from her studies in Switzerland was there to support me. Meanwhile, it was all I could do to keep my sisters from having a feeding frenzy over that big stud, Oscar. Hands off, b!tches! He came to see me!

Despite my efforts to stack the crowd in my favor, the competition was fierce and I ended up sharing the victory with the immensely talented Diamond Monroe. We were both invited back on Saturday night for a paid gig to perform two numbers with the Glamazons. I couldn’t believe someone was going to pay me good money to do something that I enjoyed so much. This must be what it feels like to be a porn star!

As soon as my excitement faded, though, I suddenly came to the realization that I had less than 24 hours to come up with brand new material. Luckily, I always have a few numbers waiting in the wings. The next morning I frantically dialed Momma to make sure she had what I needed in her endless racks of couture. In addition, the amazing Alexandria Martin helped me get my make-up just the way I wanted it. What would I do without their guidance?

The night of the show was absolute magic. Many of the girls welcomed me into the glamour of their backstage world with open arms. The enigmatic Isabella Diamante proved that big stars don’t have to have big egos by coming to my rescue on several occasions during the night. This guardian angel found me some duct tape when I needed a costume assist and repeatedly checked on me to provide comfort and assistance.

Well, you can get all the help in the world, but once you’re on the stage, it all comes down to you. Since the second night was not a competition, I decided to do more personal and less mainstream songs. My first number was “Filthy Gorgeous” by the Scissor Sisters. Strutting across the stage in my curly brown wig and hot pink playboy bunny halter top, I was feeling every bit the “ghetto princess” from the lyrics.

For my second song, I performed Liz Phair’s “H.W.C”. If you’ve never heard this song, you need to take note. It’s all about the restorative qualities of man juice. I donned my sluttish Catholic school girl skirt and my pink “Bad Seed” wig. Mookie and Peggy even made me a giant lollipop to seductively lick onstage. I was a little concerned that the more conservative members of the crowd would be shocked and horrified by the blatant sexuality of the routine. However, once the music started, the crowd was transported by the sunny optimism of the tune. I even spied a few fans enthusiastically singing and clapping along to “Give me your hot, white come.”

However, the number was not without incident. First of all, I nearly missed my cue due to confusion over the set list. Atlanta Drag Idol Gigi Monroe was supposed to be up next when they announced my name and the beat to "H.W.C" started. I hit the stage without a second to spare. However, I had forgotten my lollipop. DJ was thinking on his toes: he ran backstage and handed me the sucker from the audience. Good thing too, seeing as the prop was a big hit. ATLSingleMan even ran up to get a good lick.

Then the unthinkable happened: I had a wardrobe malfunction. Without realizing it, my right tittie popped out of my teeny weenie white top exposing my red bra to the entire audience. Momma Dale leaned over to Pinkie and suggested that she go up to fix my top. Pinkie replied, “I like it better that way.” Thanks sis! Luckily, Ruby Redd was there to protect my honor. She graciously walked up during my number, slipped me some cash and discretely pulled my shirt back over my bouncing mammaries. Now that’s a lady with some class. Not a lot, but some.

Apparently, my numbers were not a total train wreck, because Ziggy grabbed me backstage to offer her encouragement. She raved about my originality and implored me to continue being true to myself and not to let anyone try to change me. It meant so much to me to hear these words of support from an Atlanta legend like Ziggy. She asked me if I’d be interested in coming back Halloween weekend to be in their production of “Rocky Horror Picture Show”. Naturally, I jumped at the chance to work with Alexandria Martin, Gigi Monroe and the rest of the Glamazons again. Plus, that gives me plenty of time to practice doing “The Time Warp”.

Poor DJ finally hit his drag saturation point on Sunday. Understandably, he did not want to hear another word about what number I should do at the upcoming East Point Possums show or what make-up supplies I might need. So, we headed off to Woofs to hang out with the bears and watch the New England Patriots snatch a narrow victory from the Steelers. DJ seemed absolutely intoxicated by being immersed in that den of sporty queens. Of course, I didn’t bother to mention that Woofs boys wear their own drag: sneakers; tank tops or flannel; caps; beards; etc.

Smooches,
Daph