An open letter to Sharon Needles:
When your name was announced, my fist went up in the air in victory.
I didn’t watch Season 3 of Drag Race. I was bored with the show. Pretty and fishy queens “reading” one another, bad reality-tv paradigms and the interesting (read: untraditional) queens usually getting kicked off halfway through the show. No thanks. Next.
But this year I decided to watch. As soon as you walked onto the set, I knew that I was going to be watching, week after week. Here was a queen I could admire. A little punk, a little goth (okay, a lot goth), a little kooky but always well put together. Your drag was well conceived, well put together. You weren’t afraid to open your mouth and speak your mind, but you also knew when and how to do it, unlike some cast-mates (* cough* Phi Phi * cough *).
You were the queen for the rest of us. Those of us who were tired of the classic queens who do Judy and Carol, the new queens who do Britney and Beyoncé. You are the avatar for the Siouxsie fans, the Diamanda Galás freaks and the Björk babies.
I salute you, Ms Needles. Not only for your win, but for your unwavering determination in being who you are.
And that is what makes us respect you, more than anything.