Queer people seek languages outside the verbal because our words are often suppressed “That’s where beauty and fashion come in,” says Suruj, a Mumbai-based drag queen who goes by the name of Glorious Luna and the founder of LGBTQIA+ talent agency Current Management. “Beauty creates a democratic space of expression where outsiders like us can just be who we want to be.”
This freedom to grow and nurture alter egos, and shape-shift into new personas with the help of bold makeup, big lace front wigs, and towering heels is at the heart of drag culture. Luna appears as Sandro Botticelli’s Venus on one day—donning ethereal coral-inspired headgear, bronzed lips, and feather lashes—and transforms into cosmic dancer Nataraja the next, wearing ghungroos in her hair, a cutting red on her lips, and enough highlighter to summon the divine.
Globally, Sasha Velour’s surreal aesthetic has become synonymous with drag activism, while Trixie Mattel has built Barbie dreamhouses celebrating her fierce, pink persona. Even in India, queer-led events like the Delhi International Queer Theatre and Film Festival, the Hyderabad Drag Con, Mumbai’s The It Ball, and a series of Kitty Su and Kitty Ko drag nights have brought gender-bending expression to the fore, with drag queens making it to magazine covers and Netflix shows like Mismatched (2020–2022).
While its contemporary fame and acceptance are new, drag culture’s provenance is rooted in a more underground scene. Turn back the clock to Shakespearean times, an era when women were discouraged from performing on stage and men would take their place. In fact, the name ‘drag’ is believed to originate from the act of these actors walking on the stage in long gowns that would drag across the floor.
This idea of gender fluidity found more form and structure in the 1970s American drag balls. Seasoned queens would welcome newbie artists under their wing to help curate their look and on-stage persona, and provide a sense of family to queer people who may be estranged from their loved ones. This camaraderie sealed its place in modern pop culture in 2009 when the first series of RuPaul’s Drag Race aired, bringing costume creation and impersonation to a mainstream global audience. Since then, there’s been no looking back.
Make it pop
Singer-performer Lady Gaga’s theatrical wigs, Chappell Roan’s clowncore makeup, and Troye Sivan’s Donatella Versace-meets-Britney Spears alter ego all pay ode to drag beauty—and the references aren’t just Western.
Indian artists like KaMani Sutra, Emperor Naaz, and Miss Komolikaf*cks perform Rekha-themed drag in honour of the actor’s unmissable style. Similarly, Patruni Chidananda Sastry exclusively dons saris while performing to transcend the gendered expectation of the garment, and Kween Mallika references yesteryear icons like Helen and Sridevi.
“Drag makeup is about challenging conventional beauty norms. Often, it is exaggerated, deconstructed looks that have nothing to do with looking pretty. It is a performance of self and fantasy, and cakey foundation helps bring this fantasy to life,” reveals Imphal-born Dame Imfala, who sees drag as a route to social justice.
“I face a lot of microaggressions about not looking Indian enough. I’ve been mocked for having small eyes. So in drag, I wear exaggerated cat eyes to draw attention to them. When people see me, I want them to think of Manipur. I want to create space for Northeastern trans, non-binary folks like me.”
In drag, beauty is about using your body as a canvas for the character you’re becoming. There is no Instagrammable 12-step makeup routine that leaves you with a no-makeup-makeup look. Drag beauty achieves quite the contrary—it is oversized eyes, angular contours, and big bold lips that command attention under stage lights.
“Lately I’m also trying to incorporate jewellery as makeup, or plug thumb pins on my brows as embellishments. That’s what I love about drag—there are no rules,” Imfala adds.
Tool ready
Queens have been using the colour wheel to conceal stubble and neutralise undertones well before the Kardashians entered the chat. But this is only an added perk of drag—for artists, its main draw lies in its rejection of categorisation.
In a world where people are slated into neat little boxes, drag is a reminder that beauty can be a tool for resistance. “I don’t have one drag name because all my characters are a part of me. I use my identities to tell the stories inside me, to fight the negativity, depression, and humiliation I have felt through the years,” explains drag artist Hiten Noonwal, who has also enacted Victoria Sails.
The Delhi-based performer expresses themselves through innovative headgear inspired by the structures around them.
“The moment I see something I think about what I can create with it. Can I paste these beads on my face as jewellery? Can I create patches from this lace to make butterfly headgear? I have a 3D pen and a plaster of Paris mould of my face where I try out the art before applying it on myself,” the artist shares, highlighting that makeup in drag extends miles beyond the products.
“Growing up, I ran away from things that are traditionally associated with girls,” shares Mumbai-based Lauren Robinson, who performs as drag king Daddy Mercury. “Working in theatre helped me reclaim my relationship with makeup and realise it’s not a tool to look feminine but to look like anything you want.”
While at the start, drawing their mustache was a task, today the performer dips sponges in face paint to make a stubble, glues their eyebrows, experiments with glitter and wigs, and is slowly dabbling in the idea of trying on new gender-bending drag characters.
Once reserved for queer expression, the performance art is rapidly growing as an aesthetic that lets people transform into different characters. In 2022, Maddy Morphosis made history as the first cis-gender, heteronormative contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race, and in the recent past, Imfala has also noticed a rise in straight drag artists.
Is this appropriation? Imfala believes the conversation has to be more nuanced than that. “I like that drag has become more socially accepted, at least among performers. As long as straight people are not blocking queer spaces, I’m happy to have them,” the artist says.
“The truth is, the idea of drag is so inherently queer that it doesn’t matter if the performer is straight or not—they are playing dress-up, wearing a different persona to liberate themselves, and that will always be queer.”
Image credits: Dame Imfala, Glorious Luna, Baddy Mercury, Victoria Sails
This article originally appeared in Cosmopolitan India's July-Aug 2025 print edition.
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