In a 1990 television appearance, world-famous drag queen RuPaul was met with incredulous laughter as she announced what would become one of her many catchphrases: “You’re born naked and the rest is drag.” Although the men in three-piece suits in this 1990 audience may have found the idea that they were in drag just as much as RuPaul fascinatingly absurd, this idea was already well-established in queer communities by early drag culture. In fact, what you may not know is that RuPaul was actually echoing the words of poet, performer, and activist Tede Mathews, who explained in the 1978 documentary Word is Out: Stories of Some of Our Lives over a decade earlier that “clothes, on one level, are very superficial because we’re all born naked and everything that anyone wears at any time is drag.”

Tede Mathews makes an excellent point here about the significance and superficiality of clothes, one that has been (and still is) taken for granted. Many people neglect to consider the importance of clothes – fashion is an important and unique art form that we all participate in every day, whether we’re choosing an outfit to wear to an event, or throwing some clothes on to do any mundane task. We have a lot to learn from the way drag artists approach fashion, acknowledging and making the most of its superficiality.

“When someone declares that they are ‘serving’ something, they are using the language of the ballroom”

This idea that all fashion functions in the same way as drag has existed for as long as drag culture has, which began as we know it in the ballroom scene of the early 20th century. This was a space created by queer and transgender African American and Latinx people in which they could explore expression, competing before judges in different categories by performing, dancing, and modelling. Although a main focus of ballroom culture is performance, the modelling and pageant aspect also very closely connects it with the world of fashion. This connection continues to this day – when someone declares that they are ‘serving’ something, they are using the language of the ballroom. Many of the categories were built around the idea of ‘realness’; competitors were judged based on their ability to accurately replicate the social constructs and ideas they were satirising, such as ‘Female Figure Realness’ and ‘Male Figure Realness’. It is this simultaneous performance of, deconstruction of, and commentary on ideas of gender, race, and class that were (and continue to be) used to constrain and devalue people which lies at the heart of drag’s subversive potential. Drag mocks and celebrates identity at the same time.

However, as Tede Mathews points out, the way drag artists use fashion to both celebrate and take the piss can also apply to you and I. Personally, I remember discovering this as I walked into the waiting room for my initial Cambridge interview with a full face of makeup and lashes, a pink manicure and a pink miniskirt, armed only with a handbag and my lip combo, and being met with the sight of a room full of boys in suits, desperate to serve academic realness as they typed furiously on their laptops. I credit any success I might’ve had in that interview to the confidence I gained in that moment. Since then, I have discovered the genuine benefits we can all gain by maximising the potential of the clothes we all put on every morning.

More recently, this focus on expressing individuality has grown in importance to drag. Many artists are less interested in serving realness in a gendered sense, or maintaining a family resemblance to their drag house, instead adapting the boundaries of the art form to perform and express their unique character. For many new drag artists, no longer are their drag names inherited from houses like LaBeija or Xtravaganza. Instead, they create and use their name to encapsulate their energy and qualities as a performer and an individual – sometimes in the form of a well thought out pun. Drag queen Divine commented on the significance of the drag name when considering drag as a public expression of identity, by responding to the question of his name: “it’s always Glenn and it’s always Divine. Do you mean the character Divine or the person Divine?”

“Fashion is inherently social and communicative – don’t neglect this”

What would your drag name be? It’s a fun thing to think about. It’s also a great way to start thinking about how you can be inspired by the way drag artists choose to perform certain parts of their identity using fashion. Just as a drag artist would dress in accordance with the name or persona they have created and the category they may be competing in, you too can think creatively about using fashion to perform aspects of yourself in order to feel prepared for whatever challenges each day presents. Fashion is inherently social and communicative – don’t neglect this.

Maybe you’re braving your first club night at Wednesday Revs after the summer break. Maybe you’re going to the pub with your Vinted warrior, digi-cam wielding friends. Maybe all you’re doing today is attending a couple lectures and a supervision. Before you throw on the same jeans you’ve worn all week, take a moment to think. What will make you feel the most powerful? The most comfortable? What is today’s category, and what do you want to say about it?

Every style, cut, pattern, and design of clothing makes some kind of statement. You wouldn’t just write a poem without considering what the words mean, so don’t put on an outfit without thinking about what each piece serves – how it makes you look, how it makes you feel, what it might culturally resemble, and how this fits with what you plan to achieve that day. As a drag artist would, identify the category, how you can incorporate your individuality into it, what you want to say about it, and keep that in mind as you choose your outfit.