photo by Bruce-Michael Gelbert
The drag tag sales held by the the Imperial Court, finding a beaded dress with matching pumps for under $30.

The casual, oh what do I want to be this year drag queens, suddenly realize that it’s summer, and rush to the drag sales held by the the Imperial Court, and try to find a beaded dress with matching pumps for under $30. Because no one in the first group would dare to be seen in a dress twice, they usually have a wide selection of dresses from which to choose. They’re usually successful in buying terrific outfits, but it sometimes stops there. Makeup styles range from none to serious, and they may be a little haphazard in the wig department. They may not shave their faces, let alone their legs. Some of them ride the ferry, some of them don't. If they do, they definitely don’t ride in the front with the Homecoming Queen.

The third group, I suspect, wakes up hungover on the day of the Invasion, and raid their housemate's closets and luggage. Their dresses almost fit, and their wigs tend to be a little matted and slide down the sides of their heads as the day progresses, much like an ice cream cone melting on a hot summer day. Their make up, if any, is usually liberally applied a la Tammy Faye. They tend to see the ferry off, go home and change, and hit the dance floor.

My friends and I mostly belong to the second group. We look forward to the Invasion every year, but really only concentrate on what to wear when the weather gets warm (ie the last weeks of June.) We really look forward to the Imperial Court's drag sale (last year I bought the best pair of shoes there). It was out last chance, you see, to wear a new dress... unless we wanted to join the third group.

The noon siren went off, and we dashed to the Ice Palace, leaving coffee, cigarettes, and startled friends in the middle of breakfast at Floyd's. The early bird gets the brocade, you know.

Brandon and I were the ones shopping, with the boyfriends (Stephen and Joe), tagging along to make sure we didn't make a fashion faux pas. The competition was worse than a half price sale at the Manhasset Lord and Taylor's. Gowns were ripped from the racks, and inspected for tears and stains. When a possible outfit was found, it had to pass the first test; it was help up to see what it did to our complexions. No greens, no yellows, and no muddy purples for us. Brandon had his sights on a glamorous gown, so he was looking at the dresses on hangars, meaning the expensive ones. Some of those threads went for $50 and up!

I left the dresses, and went shopping for shoes. There they were, just like manna from heaven. Red and black leather, and I swear they were actually calling to me. I held them and looked at them with a critical eye. A few scuff marks, but they were only five dollars. And they fit, too. After a few hours, I imagine that I’ll lose a toe or two due to lack of circulation, but fashion is pain, as Stephen reminded me.

As I stood tottering in my heels, I turned and saw Brandon, resplendent in gown with a satin bodice, embroidered with silver, and a skirt of tulle. He had his dress, and I had shoes.

While a salesman lead Brandon over to the shoes, Joe turned to me with a swathe of red fabric in his hand, and a smile on his face. He held it out to me, and said firmly, "You have to try this on."

I held the dress in my hands, and turned it over. I'm my mother's son, so I looked at the price first. Ten dollars. No stains, no rips, and really no more wrinkles than I have around the corners of my eyes. I held it up. It brought out the color in my face, so there was nothing to do but take off my shorts and wriggle into it. It zipped – barely – but without a mirror I had to depend on the opinions of others.

"Oh, honey, that dress was made for you." A salesman, so of course it looked good on me. Even with no commissions to be earned, I know he wanted to move the merchandise. "Jim, it looks good." From Joe, but then, he picked it out. "Buy it." Two words from Stephen, and I was on my way to the cash register.

Brandon wasn't far behind my, having chosen a pair of black heels adorned with rhinestones, the perfect complements to his black and silver dress.

So, look for us on the Fourth. We'll be there, dressed for certain, but maybe not made up. Wigs are awfully hot, so we may go with what Mother Nature has given us. Certainly not "front of the ferry" material, but we'll have fun, and that's what the Invasion is all about. Brandon will be classy and elegant, in his satin, tulle, and rhinestones, and I'll be the one wearing the fire engine red dress that would do Judy Garland proud, and a pair of black and red leather come fuck me pumps. The ensemble even looks good with the goatee.

Copyright@2002 by Jim Jordan