Terracotta Clay is a drag queen from Willits. She was the only performer last year, but this time around, she got to snap her fan at some colleagues. She described her reddish-brown neutral colors as, “really gorgeous, like the Terracotta Army, like pottery.” She uses her drag to “morph myself into this entity that I see in myself, like a sculpture. I want to be like a masterpiece.” Under a sheer black negligee, she wore a bodysuit covered with pictures of brightly manicured hands. “I want to be the star of the show,” she declared. “I want to shine brighter.”
Manny Santos, also known as Mr. SF Bear 2024, came up from the Bay Area to MC the event, which he did with the requisite lightly lewd wit and live singing. He’s also something of an educational ambassador for gay culture.
“You have your classifications,” he said, listing the categories of twinks, otters, and daddies. “And one of the categories is bears,” he explained. “Something that I think is very interesting about the bear community is that they're very cuddly and nurturing. They tend to be very accepting of just about everybody. Most people will find that at any events that are geared towards bears, anybody's pretty much welcome. And that is why I really felt like running for Mr. Bear was something that I could definitely support. Because I'm like that. I have that need to just include everybody.”
Santos reigned with Vicki Sparkletits as the Duke and Duchess of the Alameda and Contra Costa County Grand Ducal Council, raising money for various charities during the pandemic. Sparkletits is seven years’ sober, and got her start in drag at Mascara, a sober drag group in San Francisco, which is sponsored by the Castro Country Club.
And, with drag enjoying a cultural moment, Sparkletits is ready to meet a voracious new demand for big glittery gowns. A recent fashion school graduate, she was premiering her final project, a ball gown inspired by the Bear flag, in brown, yellow, gold and orange. “I’m a bigger girl,” she noted; “and you can’t find ready-to-wear costumes. You have to alter them or have somebody make them special.” Instead of paying “an arm and a leg” for custom-made costumes, she decided to be the one making the gowns for other drag queens and “just about anybody.”
The Duke and Duchess emeritus ran through a dizzying array of numbers, including a duet of the scene from the animated film Beauty and the Beast, where Gaston proposes to Belle. (That’s not the one where Santos wore a T-shirt that read, “I made your dad a bottom,” or the one where he vamped in a huge green silk bathrobe.)
The surprise number of the night was Katalina St. James, a trans woman from Merced who just happened to stop by in a tight red dress with matching lipstick and platinum blond hair. By the time she got to her second number, screaming fans were practically begging her to take their money.
She had traveled to Ukiah for a conference on HIV in rural communities. She and her companion were looking around for something fun to do afterwards, “and we saw this, and we were like, let’s go do it. As soon as we walked in, they go, do you perform? And I said yes! Let’s go for it.”
While St. James may have been ready for an impromptu performance on a Saturday night, she does not in fact walk around at all times ready to take the stage. “Don’t ask me to perform at 6:00 in the morning,” she commanded. “I barely have eyebrows on.” Growing up trans in a small town, she recalled, “I was always an outcast;” but her drag mother gave her some advice she’ll never forget: “If you’re going to be a woman, you’re going to be the best-looking woman in the room….On top of that, why not walk into a place and just be stunning? It’s a good thing.”