Hello darling! Emma here, your favourite pink tutu-wearing time travelling queen from Derbyshire. Today, I'm taking you all on a fabulous trip back to the year 1943, August 8th to be precise, a date which holds a special place in my time-travelling heart.
This month, I donned my glittery pink tutu and hopped into my trusty time machine (yes, a pink tutu IS my time machine - don’t ask!), setting the dials for the middle of World War II. Why? Because, darlings, even amidst the darkness of war, drag shone bright! And it's a story I simply HAD to tell you all.
Stepping out of my magical tutu, I landed right in the middle of London. Now, let’s be honest, the vibe was decidedly different from my usual glittery nights at The Pink Flamingo Club. Instead of rainbow-hued spotlights and booming pop music, the air was thick with the ominous rumble of air raid sirens and the smell of smoke. I saw flickering street lights, dark, empty streets and men and women all dressed in brown uniforms. This wasn't the London I imagined – even with the sirens and the gloom, this city was still filled with an unyielding sense of courage.
Despite the difficult times, the wartime spirit found an outlet in its own kind of showmanship. Now, I can’t tell you what exactly was going on in the secret drag underground. My lips are sealed – I mean, imagine if those lovely girls knew they were going down in history! I’ve got a code of secrecy, you know! But one thing was for sure, even wartime couldn’t dampen the flair and passion for entertainment.
What I can share with you are my favourite findings, a sort of historical 'dragspiration'. Did you know that during the war, many dance halls remained open, hosting big-band acts and providing some much-needed respite? It was there, darling, amongst the dancing and the joy of music, that you could often find your local "ladies" entertaining the troops. Now, don’t picture them all in feathered headdresses and sparkling bodices. These ladies weren’t exactly glamorous but they were courageous and quick-witted, making a living using their wit and talent.
Imagine it! These fierce females would have worn glamorous ensembles for a night out, a touch of rouge, maybe a red lip and, oh darling, perhaps even a pinch of sparkle under the blackout. It wouldn’t have been a proper night out without a bit of theatrical flair, right?
That’s why I call 1943 a time of quiet revolution, even when no one else could hear it! A revolution of the heart, the kind of drag that keeps going, even during difficult times. A revolution where courage is worn like a badge, and glamour is found in a simple but elegant pair of earrings.
You see, these weren't just performances; they were small acts of resistance. They brought joy, a sprinkle of sparkle, and maybe a little laugh – a reminder that beauty, creativity and entertainment will always endure, even in the darkest of times.
On this trip, I went on a whirlwind adventure in wartime London. Imagine a city where even finding lipstick was a triumph, yet everyone dressed with such decent charm! This made me ponder - why not dress with such good manners now? Who says glamour can't coexist with austerity?
Remember, darlings, history is just waiting to be spun into a fab story! You see, we, as the fabulous queens of the future, are the culmination of every drag artist who dared to step onto a stage, no matter how small. So the next time you think life is hard, just remember the stories of those brave souls in 1943.
Keep an eye out for my next time travel blog post on www.pink-tutu.com, and maybe give your inner glamour queen a boost with a splash of pink!
Until next month, my dears, keep those tutus shimmering and never stop believing in the power of drag to light up the world.
XOXO, Emma.
