Dunedin isn’t exactly known for its queer scene. A close friend of mine once told me that they felt unsafe walking the streets here wearing the clothes they felt most themselves in. They’ve since moved to Wellington to find a more inclusive community. At the writer’s meeting where we organised content for the Queer Issue, one writer shared how just the weekend prior he’d had a car yell homophobic slurs at him because of the “sick jacket” he was wearing.
The drag queen on the cover’s name is Ann Arkii, and she’s been working to change this by revamping the drag scene in Dunedin (you read about it in the feature in this issue). But, shocker, it hasn’t been easy. Earlier in the year, Critic reported on an incident where Ann hosted a rainbow story time at the library for kids that attracted protestors against the “indoctrination” of the kids. I was there. The kids loved Ann. She brought joy to the room. What didn’t bring joy was the boomer lurking in the shelves on the periphery. He was the one making everyone feel unsafe.
The centrefold couldn’t have captured the current Dunedin drag scene more perfectly: Ann Arki, Dunedin’s queen of drag, sitting side by side with Boo Khaki. Boo is the drag king to Ann Arki’s queen, working in tandem to create a community of queer celebration. Boo may seem familiar to you: they’re Critic Te Ārohi’s very own Lotto Ramsay (who I’m told submitted a picture of themself in assless chaps as Boo to apply for Critic in 2022). They sit in the Yours cafe co-op where Ann works, a place that has played host to the revitalised drag scene at their hands.
The shoot was inspired by the album cover of Chappell Roan’s The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. As Madeline writes in her article about gay pop music in this issue, the current rise of Chappell (a lesbian singer who performs in drag) is a massive pop culture moment for queer people. I won’t spoil the article, you should go read it – Madeline poured her heart and soul into this piece. She said it healed a part of her, and that really comes through in the writing.
Before meeting both Ann and Boo this year, the most I’d interacted with drag was watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. I imagine it’s the same for a lot of other people. I’d also watched clips from the episode of RuPaul’s appearance on Jimmy Fallon and the horror on Jimmy’s face when Ru gasped at being called a drag queen (“A DRAG QUEEN?!”) – likely having his career flash before his eyes before he was cancelled for a reason he was yet to find out – before Ru grinned cheekily and continued: “I’m the queen of drag.”
Chappell Roan also went on Jimmy Fallon – in full drag, too. She chatted circles around the host. I saw commentary on it online that his quiet demeanour was likely because of the Ru interview, fearing accidentally being cancelled. In Monty’s opinion piece ‘Just Call Me A Slur’, he talks about this phenomenon in unflinching and honest detail; that while it’s great that we live in a time where political correctness is the norm, it can be exhausting to have people tip-toe around this. The onus is put on queer people to validate that the straights around them aren’t homophobic. Another fantastic read you can expect in this issue.
So in a city with a queer scene that’s in its infancy, I feel incredibly proud to be part of a magazine that celebrates queerness and platforms the queer experience (the good and the bad). Here’s to creating safe spaces where everyone can feel safe and proud to be themselves. This one’s for the gays and the girlies.