I’ve been in the drag realm of performance since 2012, but I come from a family that mixes drag, cabaret and a heaping dash of filth to the mix. My mother, Judy Virago, showed me that performing in drag isn’t just dancing, but also can be funny, political, and stupid all at the same time. It’s also not just what you do on stage, but a character you can embody while mingling in the audience or even on the sidewalk when you’ve got no drag on at all.

I’m very proud of what I did on Drag Race, and all the outfits we put together with very limited fabric supplies here in Newfoundland. I’m proud to be the Queen of the East Coast and the first represented on the show. But the shows I’m most proud of are the ones I write and perform with my drag family, The Phlegm Fatales. They are wild and irreverent and political and sassy, they make people laugh and cry and dream. One of my favourites was called The Labourinth; a Halloween haunted house but instead of garbage bags and zombies we made a maze of office cubicles and filled it with tired bureaucrats forcing you to fill out paperwork and find the right place to drop it off. The installation was a terrifying view of capitalism and wasted opportunity, while also secretly showing people how much red tape must be cut through for trans people to change their names or gender markers.

I think high heels are just a fad and they’ve had their day. Say goodbye to sexy calves and hello to: a singular wheel. Yes a wheel, just like Rosie the Robot. This is the way of the future, and yes this is because my feet hurt.

When I went on Drag Race I thought people wanted to see more of The Dancing Diva™, which is something that I am not and will never be. I tried to fit myself into a box and in the process I momentarily forgot that drag is supposed to be fun and big and expressive. Drag doesn’t belong in a box, just a suitcase with wheels carried by a stronger hotter person who wants to make out with me. It took some time and work, but I’ve come back to remembering why I do drag, and baby I’m having fun. 🤩

Oh, I’m always trying to mange burnout. I work my day job and then I have to put on the wig and the heels and the lashes and the earrr and take the train to the club??? It can feel like a lot of work. But I find having a little silly side quest can help me remember that drag is fun. A couple weeks ago I did a show for St John’s Pride (where I met Karla Marx and Bitch Sassidy) and I walked my ps5 controller around on a leash and told people it was my boyfriend. Or another time I made it my mission to convince as many people at the party that the song Paralyzer was a U2 cover. The truth is, performing IS work, but you have to find silly little ways to remind yourself that the work is really fun and also you have free will and can do whatever you want.

I feel very blessed to be the certain brand of crazy where I can reach into the ether and pull out random things. I am always looking at every piece of media or conversation with a lens of “what can I make out of this”. It’s not really something I turn on or off, it’s just always there. I like to channel this to tell queer stories that I haven’t seen told before, but I also love to make them somewhat accessible to people who may not otherwise encounter them. It’s a fun challenge to write thing with double meanings for people in the know, while not letting the str8’s know they’re being left out of a joke

I have always thought Sleep Apnea would be a lovely name for a baby girl!

This is a funny question, because I CAN learn a new performance skill. I can do anything I want, and that’s just a bit overwhelming sometimes. I wish I was a bit better ant learning group choreo, I wish I was a bit faster at sewing, and I wish I had a billion million dollars to learn how to eat fire while pogo jumping on a surfboard. But sometimes real comedy comes from the illusion of knowing what I’m doing. Like how funny would it be to see me try to do all that with zero training? That’s what it’s like watching me improvise on stage.

I would love to do a one woman version of Phantom of the Opera but everyone has a thick cockney accent. But again I’m not really answering your question because I already get to perform with my dream cast. The Phlegm Fatales are an all nonbinary group of weirdos who live on a desolate rock in the Atlantic, each of whom possess so many varied skills. I don’t have to learn how to do aerials because I’ll just get Backslash Garbagefile to do it. I don’t have to to Choreo because Madame Daddy has that in the bag. I write jokes, but Liezel Hues punches them up to be so funny and quotable. And then Eda Kumquat is so electric on stage that we have to redirect Newfoundland Hydro so the power grid doesn’t blow up. I love this group of people and yes I could say some famous people, but once you curate a dream team- it’s hard to think of anything else!

If you’re not having fun, you’re not doing drag!!

Getting on TV was the goal for a while and then I got what I wanted, and then struggled with finding goals beyond that. So I’m in my no ambition era. It sometimes feels like when you beat a video game and then you can just fuck around and do whatever you want for as long as you want. I’m sure at some point I’ll start working on a new Phlegm Show and try to get something on film, but right now I’m easy breezy and enjoying life. But when that creative spark gets lit next- watch out, cuz it will spread fast 😉