“What the hell is this?” I thought-I had never seen drag before, but I was instantly hooked. It was the first time I had watched the film and I remember the opening scene distinctly: a drag queen in a big blonde wig pads onto the stage in a dingy club and starts doing a number, a lip sync to a dramatic seventies ballad. The film was called The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, a nineties cult classic about two drag queens and a Transgender woman who go on a road trip across the Australian outback. I was kneeling in my parents’ living room and slotting a VHS into the recorder. I think I was about 13 years old-probably wearing dungarees, or at least, that’s how I like to imagine my proto-lesbian self.
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