When we connect over video chat from her home in California, I’m expecting to meet Samuel Geggie, the 22-year-old behind the drag persona, Gigi Goode, who is currently lighting up screens on this year’s lap around the circuit of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Not so: it’s the grande dame Goode herself, dressed to the nines in a 1950s-inspired polka-dot bandeau bikini top, a pair of white cat-eye sunglasses perched atop a Farrah Fawcett–style wig, and a beaming grin. For a queen like Goode, there’s clearly no such thing as an off day.
The explanation for her cheery presentation is the gang she’s currently in lockdown with, all of whom she’s quick to thank. “I’m very grateful to be with a group of amazing people right now—I’ve almost never been more creative than I have been in these past few weeks,” says Goode of the home she’s currently sharing with the House of Avalon, a Los Angeles–based troupe of queer creatives that counts Lizzo’s stylist, Marko Monroe, as a cofounder. “I’m in drag almost every single day, and we’re constantly sewing and creating and making work together. Despite everything that’s going on in the world, we feel it’s our responsibility to continue doing what we do best.”
All the same, Goode’s current daily routine is probably not what she envisioned when the 12th season of Drag Race first hit screens back on February 28. The global spread of COVID-19 was already posing an increasing threat to the drag community’s livelihood, as the bars and clubs it relies on to survive were slowly but surely beginning to shut down across the globe. Then, the season was plunged into controversy when a contestant’s history of sexual misconduct was exposed the day before the second episode aired, resulting in their disqualification and a frantic scramble by producers to, where possible, edit them out of the show. Finally, the news came on March 10 that RuPaul’s DragCon L.A., scheduled for May, would be canceled due to coronavirus. Not only does the franchise’s flagship convention provide a significant source of income for the drag community, both for the queens themselves and the ecosystem of small businesses that now operate around it (its organizers estimate that last year’s Los Angeles and New York events drew $8.2 million in merchandise sales combined), the annual event is where this year’s new cohort of queens make their splashy public debut. Meanwhile, what exactly will happen in place of the season finale, typically conducted as a live event in a Los Angeles theater, is still anyone’s guess.
Despite these frustrations, Goode remains cautiously upbeat. “Obviously I’ve had a dream come true that was kind of taken away, in the sense that I should be on an airplane, traveling the world and performing on as many stages as possible and meeting fans, and I’m unable to do that,” she says. “But then, you have to look at the positives. You don’t have to be traveling around the world to discover new talent. I’ve been doing livestreams, and spending my time watching other queens’ livestreams and supporting whoever I can support. I’m so thankful to have discovered some of my favorite artists through that, many of whom I’ve never seen before and now have a new platform.”
After all, it was through the internet—as it is with so many queer performers of her generation—that Goode began her journey to half a million Instagram followers, and counting. Growing up in rural Illinois, out in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, Goode spent much of her childhood watching her mother sew in the makeshift atelier set up in their family basement, crafting costumes for local youth and community theater. “I’ve been behind a sewing machine since I could hold scissors, basically,” Goode explains. “It’s so therapeutic, it’s like meditation for me. Plus, it was time that my mom and I got to spend together that was strictly ours, as I have two older brothers with zero interest in fashion and sewing, so I knew that neither of them could barge in and ruin it.”
By the age of eight or nine, Goode was making her own garments; by her mid-teens, as her body settled into the perfect shape for the 1950s and ’60s gowns her mother was making, she began trying on these vintage outfits and exploring the art of drag for the first time on her own body. “I’d style them up with my mom’s treasure trove of accessories, but it was often a little iffy,” Goode remembers. “I’d come upstairs to do a photoshoot and my mom would be like, ‘No, we’re going back downstairs. We’re going to pick a different hat for you. We’re going to pick some different gloves, because you are not doing this right.’ My mother is really my external muse, in a way.” After dropping out of her first year of college, she moved to Los Angeles to become a makeup artist. A series of bookings as a drag performer followed, and an audition for Drag Race came a year later.
It’s her mom’s throwback spirit, however, that colors the drag Goode is showcasing across her run on Drag Race—a recent “bride wore black” challenge saw her directly reference the cinched waist and A-line skirt of Christian Dior’s post-war New Look silhouette, while her interpretation of a sports-inspired challenge took her straight to ’80s plaid skirt suits, complete with a croquet bat as a cheeky nod to the cult teen classic Heathers. Given the many queens from seasons past who have successfully broken into the world of high fashion—Violet Chachki starring in a 2018 Prada campaign, for example, or Aquaria wearing John Galliano to last year’s Met gala—does Goode also have her eye on the fashion world as another rung in the ladder?
“Abso-fucking-lutely!” she says. “It’s always been a dream of mine to walk a runway, ever since I was a kid tying a blanket around my waist and stealing my mum’s heels from Target, walking back and forth down the hallway all night long.” Citing Jean Paul Gaultier and Vivienne Westwood as longtime obsessions, and the flamboyant, inclusive attitude of Christopher John Rogers as a new favorite, she also has a clear idea of where she might fit in among the group of Drag Race alumni who are now front-row regulars at Fashion Weeks around the world. “I’d like to bring a little humor and campiness. My golden rule in life is to not take things too seriously, so in that respect I’m obsessed with Jeremy Scott and Moschino, that would be my number-one dream. My introduction to Jeremy Scott was his spring 2015 Barbie collection—I can remember playing with Barbie since I was two years old. That is the dictionary definition to me of where camp meets fashion, and that is so my drag.”
While Goode’s sharp eye for fashion has seen her become the standout style star of her season, many commentators have noted that the Drag Race contestants who break through to the upper echelons of the fashion world—Chachki and Aquaria as previously mentioned, along with Miss Fame and Detox—tend to fall within a fairly narrow set of parameters, most notably white and sample size. Drag Race’s thorny relationship with race has become a growing, and important, conversation that the show itself has tended to grapple with clumsily, as queens of color leave the show lagging behind their white peers when it comes to tangible metrics such as booking fees and social media followings. It’s something Goode is keenly aware of, and doesn’t take lightly. “I know that I’m lucky to have been given what I’ve been given, and it’s something that needs to change,” she says.
On the other hand, Goode is hoping that the sense of sisterhood between this season’s queens—as well as the support system they’ve built to rebuff the racist and transphobic hate that can be slung at the cast from more toxic fringes of the fandom—can be used as a force for good. “We’re all such good friends, and I know that isn’t always the case with every season,” she says. “Our group chat is blowing up every single day. We’re all calling each other, and we have each other’s backs, which is so heartwarming and crucial during this time. Together we can all be there for each other, whether it’s to boost our morale and confidence, or offer sparks of inspiration, or even to just alleviate some of the uncertainty. I’m so grateful to have all these girls.”
Still, for better or worse, the relationship between LGBTQ+ nightlife and the global phenomenon of Drag Race is now symbiotic—and it’s currently at a crisis point. Nearly all of the queens who appear on the show have spent years, some even decades, honing their craft in these spaces, relying on notoriously low booking fees and cash tips to survive; later, queens who appeared on the show can act as headliners to draw crowds back into these clubs and spotlight emerging talents. Off the back of most seasons of Drag Race, the newest crop of queens would be doing the usual circuit of queer venues around the U.S., regularly crossing paths to host viewing parties of each episode to packed crowds. (The show isn’t nicknamed “the gay Olympics” for nothing.) As drag bars are forced to shut down, so too is a vital financial lifeline for queer performers lost—a sobering reminder that while there are plenty of talented queens ready to keep us entertained during lockdown on TV, many of their sisters are facing extreme hardship. It’s a point in our conversation that Goode takes real pause to consider her response.
“I think if you’re someone who thrives and makes a living on being creative, however hard it might be, this current time should be lighting a fire under your ass,” she says. “It’s crucial to keep the motor running. When all this started to go down, and we knew we wouldn’t be able to perform [in] the near future, I was shaking in my boots, as I’m sure every drag queen in America was. How are we going to make money? It’s tough, both emotionally and physically. But then you have to remember that if it weren’t for artists and creatives, it really would be Armageddon.
“We’re able to come onscreen and give those people who are so worried now a moment to exhale and relax, and just enjoy something a little bit stupid,” she continues. “So if you’re a drag artist, keep being a little stupid and try to have fun, even if you’re scared, because we all are—and if you’re not, you’re lying. Just put that aside and think about the people who really need your positivity at this moment.” RuPaul’s infamous criteria to become America’s next drag superstar may be “charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.” (For those who haven’t come across it before, let’s just say it’s also an acronym.) But if there’s one specific factor that feels most important at this moment, it’s nerve—the nerve to see this current crisis through with appropriate sensitivity and sisterhood.
Goode’s impeccable style might be the maraschino cherry on top of her kitschy, kind-hearted cake, but it’s her tenacity and commitment to community that marks her out as a worthy representative for the drag world, fashion-adjacent or otherwise. While many in the game still have all the credentials to snatch the crown, the responsibility this year is the heaviest yet. With the dignity and humility required to take the crown through the next 12 months, never have the words “may the best woman win” meant quite so much.
