When D’Arcy Drollinger, a veteran of the San Francisco drag community, was named the city’s first drag laureate this year, she quickly realized she was walking right into the eye of a storm.
The 54-year-old performer, who said she was initially caught off guard by the nomination, has found herself at the forefront of a long-brewing culture war. With anti-trans legislation spreading across the US and bills banning drag performance being passed in various states, her first few months in the role have been a whirlwind.
“It came in at full force, and I was as ready for it as I could be,” said Drollinger, who uses “she” pronouns when in drag and “he” in daily life. “I feel very lucky to be able to be in that spotlight and be an ambassador and a beacon for all of the places that are not like San Francisco – where people don’t have the same kind of enthusiasm and support from not only audiences but city officials.”
Drollinger will receive a $55,000 stipend in her 18-month role as the city’s inaugural drag laureate, described in the job listing as someone who will “embody San Francisco’s historic, diverse and inclusive drag culture, elevating the entire community on the national and international stage”. Thus far, her duties have included participating in drag events, throwing out the first pitch at a Giants game, and liaising with politicians on how to preserve LGBTQ+ culture and history.
The position has brought official recognition to the art form Drollinger has dedicated her life to – one she says is often dismissed as “frivolous” or just entertainment at a time when it has become more political than ever.
“Drag is an art form, but it is also a lens through which you can view all other art forms,” she said. “Drag is everything over the top – it’s larger than life. And when you look at something in a magnifying glass or under a microscope, you see things in very different ways. So I think the power of drag is being able to look at things with a different perspective.”
The schedule of a drag laureate can be grueling, said Drollinger, speaking on a video call from her “drag room”, a walk-in closet of sorts filled with wigs, outfits and heels. She now spends almost every day in drag, doing three or more events, speaking with news outlets, and performing. But a few months in, she has finally been able to catch her breath.
“It all happened so suddenly, but now that it has had time to sink in, I have more clarity about what I want to do” in the remainder of her 18-month tenure, she said. “With this role being brand new, there isn’t a path – I’ve got to pave it myself. I have to decide what this position could and should be in the future.”
And not just for San Francisco. West Hollywood also appointed its first drag laureate in June, and other cities could be next. San Francisco’s decision to appoint a drag laureate came in part as a response to the rise of anti-LGBTQ+ crimes and legislation in recent years, said the mayor, London Breed. “While drag culture is under attack in other parts of the country, in San Francisco we embrace and elevate the amazing drag performers,” she said.
The list of such attacks is seemingly endless. Drag story hours, in which drag queens read to children, have been targeted in a number of protests by white supremacists in recent years – including in the Bay Area in 2022. The American Civil Liberties Union is tracking hundreds of anti-LGBTQ+ pieces of legislation in the US, including more than a dozen specifically targeting drag performers. Texas successfully passed a ban on drag performing in June, but the law was blocked temporarily before going into effect this week.
Drollinger said in this cultural environment, it has “never been more dangerous to be a drag performer”. She feels her role has gone beyond a laureate – typically an artist or a figure simply recognized for significant contributions to a field – to a spokesperson for and a defender of LGBTQ+ rights at a dire crossroads. And that responsibility that can be daunting at times.
“The problem is I just want to entertain people – I don’t want to spend all my time fighting,” she said. “But the reality is if more cities appointed drag laureates and recognized what we do – not only politically and economically but for the community on a social level – I think the less power these proposed laws could have.”
Drollinger, who was born in San Francisco, said her interest in drag began at age four, when – inspired by Mary Poppins – she asked her mother to buy her a pair of heels and an umbrella. She started drag performances in adulthood in 2004 after she moved to New York City, and opened her own nightclub with friends in 2015, after moving back to San Francisco.
That nightclub, called Oasis, has become “much more than a venue”, she said – it is a center for queer community in San Francisco. When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, she launched Meals on Heels, where performers brought food, cocktails and socially distant lip-synching performances to home-bound customers. She said the drag laureate position provided official recognition to the foundational work she and many before her had done for the city.
“The drag community so often are the ones taking care of our community,” she said. “We are not only the clowns and the jesters; we are the political voice. We’re here to entertain, but also to support – and that’s why I think that drag is very important.”
Drollinger said to that end, she was looking forward to working with the city on the best ways to preserve and celebrate queer history, and to honor the people who had come before her. San Francisco was the site of the Compton’s Cafeteria riot – a historic act of resistance led by the transgender community that predated the Stonewall riots.
She said over her decades-long career, she had never seen drag as politicized as today. In her childhood, she remembers tourists from outside the Bay Area driving to see drag shows in the North Beach area of San Francisco, or men wearing drag on television and in films like Some Like it Hot. Now, she feels the need to hire more security and use metal detectors at her nightclub.
“Racism and prejudice has always existed in our culture, but after Trump and others hijacked the Republican party, it has opened the floodgates for people who were already feeling this way to be very vocal about it,” she said. “It’s not about being anti-drag, it’s about being anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-community.”
She said she was working hard to make concrete changes – to protest, to speak out, and to develop programs with the city to fight anti-LGBTQ+ hate. But her biggest weapon, she said, was her sparkle.
“If we just sit here and watch, we feel helpless,” she said. “We ask ourselves: what can we do? But the truth is, if we can live more authentically every day of our lives, things will change. And by authentic, I mean more fabulous – because that is what we all want. If we can be that free and that fabulous every day, we inspire everybody around us.
“People might not realize it, but deep down everybody wants to be the most fabulous they can be in this life – and if everyone is just a little more fabulous, there’s that much less room for anger and hate and hostility and violence. And little by little we can create social change around us. I do believe that is possible.”
