A practiced hand and an airbrush help transform faces. Emma Finkbeiner
Loretta Love Lee getting prepared for the drag show. Emma Finkbeiner
Kolor 2 Dye 4 Salon supports the drag performers with hair and makeup. Emma Finkbeiner
Coco's Restaurant hosts monthly drag shows in Marquette. Emma Finkbeiner
Rena Yelle helps Mercedes Benzova create her look. Emma Finkbeiner
When you think drag culture, you might not think of the U.P.--it hasn't always been the friendliest to the LGBTQ community. But these days, regular drag shows are lighting up Marquette, and showing a small town it's all right to be whoever you want to be.
A narrow runway lined with folding chairs ended at a small stage where a single chair was placed. "All that Jazz" from the musical Chicago began playing and a woman with an uncanny resemblance to Velma Kelly slinked onto the stage and lip synced along. Her knee-high black heeled boots, skin-tight red skirt and black bustier top emphasized an ideal female figure--toned yet curvaceous. She strutted down the runway slowly and seductively analyzed the crowd of people packed into the small room.
In the front row, two older men wearing Carhartt jackets attentively watched her every move. Another man sat quietly with a rat perched on his shoulder. Some middle-aged women whistled and held out dollar bills. College students filled the rest of the room.
She performed the number as if she was on a Broadway stage in New York City rather than inside a repurposed racquetball court--appropriately named The Racket--in Marquette, Michigan.
On a Saturday evening in this small northern town, most people are on their way to a craft brewery, local bar or the ski hill. But others are watching men perform onstage as beautiful women or vice versa. This is the unexpectedly well-established drag culture of the Upper Peninsula.
The U.P. has a population of just over 300,000 people despite having an area of over 16,000 square miles. In a landscape mostly covered in wilderness, with a lack of metropolitan cities and a population stereotyped as hunters and anglers, there is a thriving population of drag queens and kings and a growing LGBTQ community.
Modern U.P. Drag Culture
Drew Hibbard, a 22-year-old hospitality management student at Northern Michigan University (NMU), says he has been dressing up as a girl for Halloween since he was sixteen. When Hibbard went to his first drag show at NMU his freshman year of college, he was stunned by the attendance.
"When I first heard there was a drag show here I was like, 'NMU lets that happen?'" he says. "I was mind-boggled that people do this for a living."
Hibbard grew up in Crystal Falls, a small U.P. town, and says he was the only gay person at his high school. When he came to NMU, Marquette felt like "the big city". He was first asked to perform drag during his freshman year of college by a well-known Marquette drag queen's daughter and began competing in amateur shows.
"We're so much more confident when we're in drag," he says. "Looking like someone you're not used to looking like every day--it makes you become fearless."
This year, Hibbard performed in the professional show, which was at maximum capacity in the Vandament Arena with nearly 1,300 people in attendance.
Many local establishments, like Second Skin Dance Shop and Rendezvous Tattoo, help support the drag queens. Hibbard says business owners are excited to see him and others go out in drag.
"It's a very accepting community," he says. "We're like local celebrities basically."
Chief of Police Mike Angeli, who has served with the Marquette City Police for 37 years, says he could not recall a time he reported a hate crime against the LGBTQ community.
"Marquette is unique in a lot of ways and it would be nice if the rest of the country followed our example, whether it be in politics or personal preference," Angeli says.
Angeli says this could be because police don't experience negative relationships with minority groups like they may in a bigger city.
Detective Lieutenant Michael Kohler from the Marquette City Police also says he has never reported a hate crime. According to Crime Star, no hate crimes were reported in the last five years.
"Marquette is an eclectic mix of people that really is tolerant, much more than other communities of a similar size," Kohler says.
Hibbard says sometimes when the queens are out in public, they have been called things like "tranny" or "queer." They don't allow this simple-mindedness to bother them.
"There is an element of name-calling but it's really minimal," he says. "I can only think of maybe three times someone has done that and if that's all we have to complain about, perfect."
The Transformation
The door of Kolor 2 Dye 4 opens and cool air rushes into the salon, a relief from the smell of cigarettes and ammonia.
"When are the girls going to be here?" Rena Yelle, the owner of the salon, says, taking a drag of her cigarette. "They have rehearsal in three hours."
Rena finishes her cigarette, walks back into the salon and sits down in a stylist's chair. A stylist begins braiding the sides of Rena's jet-black hair. Bright red and orange streaks run through it and they stand out when she teases the top into a faux-hawk. She wears a zebra cardigan and is mingling with customers when Drew Hibbard and Coree Segerstrom show up around 2 p.m.
Hibbard wears a metallic purple ball cap, jeans and a tie-dye shirt. Tattoos are visible on both his and Segerstrom's arms. He already has big bejeweled hoop earrings on.
"Do those help you get into character?" Yelle asks.
"They make me feel like a girl," he says.
Segerstrom is dressed more casually, in a loose fitting tank top, three-quarter-length cotton pants and flat, slip-on shoes. The sides of his head are shaved but the top has medium-length black hair pulled into a knot. Sitting at his station, he seems completely at home. He works at the salon when he isn't preparing for local drag shows. He opens a large cosmetic case to reveal a makeup brush roll that looks more like it belonged to Van Gogh.
"Time to get in the zone," Segerstrom says.
Hibbard and Segerstrom are prepping for a local drag show, which has completely sold out.
On the shores of Lake Superior is a boutique eatery called Coco's. The white building with orange detail in the trim and on the door stands nearly alone on a block of Lake Shore Boulevard.
What used to be a moderately upscale family restaurant has slowly evolved into a nightlife hot spot. A stage now occupies the space near the front of the building by the eight-panel window. At the other end of the room is a bar reminiscent of Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, without the palm leaves.
The night before, Coco's was filled to capacity for the first of what are now monthly drag shows. Chairs in rows filled the restaurant and created a runway from the stage to the bar. Queens and kings performed for hours to songs like "Hollaback Girl" by Gwen Stefani and "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls as the audience stuffed dollar bills in skirts and bras.
Just as Coco's has changed from a family restaurant into a late night venue, Marquette has slowly evolved into a more liberal small town. Drag culture and the LGBTQ community have become more accepted and more present.
Kolor 2 Dye 4 will soon celebrate its fourth year in business. Opened in April of 2011, this alternative hair salon is a haven for anyone who is a little bit "different." The patrons that continue to revolve through the salon all seem like regulars, people that know and love Rena and the other employees.
Hibbard and Segerstrom have just three hours to transform into their alter egos--Loretta Love Lee and Mercedes Benzova, respectively--before their dress rehearsal at 5 p.m. The drag show at Coco's is scheduled to begin with a meet and greet at 7 p.m. and the show starting at 8 p.m.
The process begins with "putting their faces on." Makeup brand names like "Nyx," "e.l.f." and "Ben Nye" are thrown around amidst curse words and song lyrics.
"If I mess up today, it's going to be a crying moment," Mercedes says.
Both girls sweep on layers of foundation, concealer, contouring and highlights. Their faces are striped with shades of cream, nude and bronze foundation until they are expertly blended to hide a "big nose" and a " butt chin," they say. The pile of makeup at each station slowly grows. Loretta uses an airbrush machine for precision.
"Cover Girl doesn't cover guy," Loretta says.
The girls' expert contouring creates high cheekbones and diminished jaw lines. It isn't long before the glitter, rhinestones, dark lipstick and fake eyelashes come out. Loretta even pops in contacts that change her eyes from brown to electric blue.
"I like to be fake," Loretta says. "I don't want to look anything like me as a boy."
Loretta disappears into the massage room to dress and put on her wig. Mercedes finishes her makeup, leans back in her chair, crosses her legs and sighs.
"I need a cocktail," she says.
Loretta returns in a black dress that sparkles in the light. She struts around the salon in her black stilettos as if she'd done so her entire life. A chunky necklace of faux gems rests on her chest and she pulls on a white fur coat.
Mercedes begins to get anxious as Loretta finishes her look. She sits impatiently in her salon chair, frequently checking her iPhone. She is waiting for a fellow queen to show up to do her hair and a roommate to drop off her outfit. She begins joking about performing without either.
"I'm fixin' to go on stage now, just like this," Mercedes says.
Rena laughs and starts applying rhinestones in the shape of the Mercedes-Benz logo on the side of Mercedes' head.
"I always think you two are never going to be ready in time for the show, but somehow you always make it happen," Rena says, comforting Mercedes.
Across the room, Rena's daughter, Kate, has a different problem. Rather than making herself look more feminine, she is transforming into her male alter ego, Loki. She paints on a goatee and asks Rena to help her get dressed. She holds two large spandex bandeau tops in her hands.
"Come on, girl," Rena says. "Let's go get rid of your 44 triple D's."
Back at The Racket, the crescendo of "All that Jazz" began. Despite lacking back-up dancers, the queen's performance of the famous song had the crowd mesmerized. She paraded down the runway toward the stage and as the music began to fade she stopped, slowly leaned down and caressed the side of a young man's face.
Emma Finkbeiner is a senior at Northern Michigan University studying public relations and journalism. She was a previous editor in chief at The North Wind student newspaper and was recently elected as the 2015-16 national publications editor in chief for the Public Relations Student Society of America. You can find her on Twitter @efink101.
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