Now, when we say ‘drag virgins’ we don’t mean ‘those who are doing drag for the first time’ (if it were that, we’re practically drag virgins ourselves having just once done Kate Bush with peaches in her hair and a tight gingham jumpsuit back in the days of Kinky Gerlinky). We mean ‘drag queens who instead of doing Madonna or Dame Shirley Bassey, do Our Mother of the Perpetual Something Or Other’.
Like this one here from a Spanish calendar promoting LGBT (add your own letters to the end of this, by the way: there’s apparently no limit to how many groups can clamber on this particularly sparkly bandwagon of difference) *reads back* …promoting LGBT rights. And stuff.
Apparently there’s been an outcry. A brou-ha-ha. A jaleo. Nuns’ knickers (if they’re wearing any!) in a twist, the works. Well, as we always have our own trumpet on hand – sometimes IN hand – ready to blow, can we just say that back in our days on a respectable gay magazine, we got Boy George done up like Jesus Christ Our Lord and The Very Miss Dusty O to do supporting Virgin duties. And that was the 90s!
*looks up to see ticker tape fluttering down in celebration. Dabs eye with corner of handkerchief. Realises handkerchief has been soaked in amyl nitrate*