It’s not easy being a girl

Well, that was kind of fun. I don’t think I’m doing it again in a million years, but still. Fun.

So last night my volleyball league had our end-of-year party at Celebrities. Since the party is also our only fundraising event for the year, we wanted to bring in a big crowd. Something we’d never done before. The answer? The board would put on a drag show. After a bit of discussion we settled on George Michael’s “Too Funky” for music; the only female board member would be dressed as George, and the rest of us would walk around and pose like the models in the video. There was a bit more to the choreography, but that’s about it. Nothing too fancy.

Well, that was kind of fun. I don’t think I’m doing it again in a million years, but still. Fun.

So last night my volleyball league had our end-of-year party at Celebrities. Since the party is also our only fundraising event for the year, we wanted to do something we’d never done before, and bring in a big crowd. The answer? The board would put on a drag show. After a bit of discussion we settled on George Michael’s “Too Funky” for music; the only female board member would be dressed as George, and the rest of us would walk around and pose like the models in the video. There was a bit more to the choreography, but that’s about it. Nothing too fancy.

I wasn’t really keen on doing it, since I’d never done drag before, never felt comfortable performing in front of an audience, and frankly was afraid of looking like a hot mess. Of course, I realised I was totally going to look like a hot mess, but I had to just go with it and have fun, and it would all be over in a few minutes.

Self-consciousness aside, my biggest worry was whether I’d even be able to walk in heels. That part wasn’t so bad, though, since the shoes I ended up using (borrowed from a friend, along with my entire outfit) had fairly modest 2-inch heels. As long as I remembered to step with the toes first, I could get from point A to point B pretty efficiently, though not that gracefully.

And I learned something else, too: being a woman takes a lot of work! Hair, makeup, dresses, bras, shaving various bits as necessary, and the aforementioned shoes. But that’s the price you pay for being beautiful, I guess. Not that I really felt that beautiful, once the initial thrill wore off; with all due respect to my makeup artists (no, seriously), my face in makeup just looked weird, like some alternate-universe Joker-ised version of myself. That’s just me, though. The feedback I got from my performance ranged from “Good job, you were great!” to “scary but nice” to “I’m gonna need therapy.” So… on average, I did okay? Meh, I don’t really care. I did it once, kind of enjoyed it, we raised money, and now it’ll make a good story.

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