The mood backstage of Opulence is frantic, fluorescent and a friendly frenzy. I’m slithering about the common dressing room the local queens and back-up dancers share, trying to keep out of everyone’s way. I have my press pass in my purse, though since I’m in drag no security guards question my presence.
Out in the hall I can see the doors labelled “Raja,” “Pangina,” “Denali.” I lock eyes with friends in the dressing room mirror, and we exchange nervous grins. I’m anxious because I’ll be interviewing the Ru girls soon. They’re anxious because they’ll be performing in front of a room of 1500. “I have terrible news, everyone,” says Philippine-born co-organiser and performer Vera Strondh. She smiles. “We have one hour til doors.”
In the past year, Japan’s drag community seems to have grown in leaps and bounds. Every week I hear of new drag shows, new hostess bars, new drag go-go events. After the country’s long period of curfews and closed borders during the COVID pandemic, the return of these lively nights in Shinjuku Nichōme (Tokyo’s largest Gay Town) is a
