Twelve Bay Area-based drag queens took to San Francisco’s Union Square ice rink this past week for bouts of lightness, humor, and, for many, queer representation amid a time when lawmaking seems to want to erase members of the LGBTQIA+ community.
The holidays — and by seasonal ties, the winter months — descend on San Francisco in a series of familiar happenings. For one, our temperatures cool; December sees the mercury drop to well below 60 degrees Fahrenheit in SF on most days, and we’re forced to both don slightly thicker outerwear and mourn the heat-soaked afternoons day drinking at Mission Dolores Park. Karl The Fog lingers longer, opaque with an extra layer of condensation. Holiday bar pop-ups populate the city. A massive plastic tree stands in Union Square, gleaming with a collection of white holiday lights.
But that 83-foot-tall plastic tree isn’t the only festive item to transpire downtown this time of year; there’s also a frozen lake that forms out of nowhere. Last week, drag performers traded their heels for ice skates as part of the annual Drag Queens on Ice showcase at the Union Square Ice Rink.
Since debuting in 2009, it’s a yearly tradition now for us San Franciscans, as well as tourists, to marvel (appropriately giggle at, find joy in, sip hot cocoa while watching) at the performed numbers, no two acts ever remotely being the same. On Thursday, December 7th, Bay Area drag queens again took to the ice rink sandwich Post and Gearty streets.
Taking to the icy water was a dozen queens — Baby Shaques, Curve Ball, Dusty Porn, Helixer, Jota Mercury, Jubilee, Major Hammy, Paju Munro, and Tara Lipsyncki — all of who circled the San Francisco rink for around three or so minutes each, gesticulating in all manner of artistry; local drag legend Donna Sachet and Pride Radio’s Christie James hosted the festivities; Sachet was quick to note throughout the hour-long show that the falls were intentional — “she meant to do that” — to quell the crowd’s concerns, all while simultaneously permitting people to laugh at the planed antics.
Before the performance, many of the queens were interviewed by prominent local outlets. In between these quick productions, children — the small humans we’ve all grown from and represent a growingly rare sight in San Francisco — gathered around them, asking questions and grinning from ear to ear and marveling at the sequined, sparkly, hand-sewed regalia in front of them. In a day and age so adamant about separating the youth from drag queens.
(It’s a divide, mind you, propagated by falsehoods and a marginal, overtly conservative minority that finds itself situationally blind to the fact there the Catholic church was found responsible for some 216,000 incidences of child abuse by priests between 1950 and 2020. But yes… drag queen story hours in public libraries are the real dangerous agenda item here, comparatively.)
The twelve queens enamored a gobsmacked, captivated audience. Warm bodies have seen not only rows deep around the ice rink’s ad-bannered borders, but people shopping at nearby multi-storied stores gathered in front of floor-to-ceiling glass panes to watch the spectacle below.
There was no contest; there were no winners; no one was told to “sashay away” while trying to maintain their balance on skates — thankfully, at least the ice wouldn’t be thin to exit from, in this hypothetical. If we were to pick someone who balanced talent, comedy, and costuming the best, our vote would go to none other than Jubilee, San Francisco’s beloved “Hillebilly drag queen,” whose performance consisted of her throwing a wig and reflective boa onto the ice. But not before falling — again, intentionally. Better yet? A niche song from Jinkx Monsoon backdropped the entirety of her number.
San Francisco’s Drag Queens on Ice exists as an all-encompassing, evergreen display of the convivial joy drag brings to the masses. It’s the epitome of entertainment, offering up an endless well of levity, escapism, drama, and aspiration; to so completely embody a heightened incarnation of humanity requires a level of conviction, be it natural or learned.
Drag, too, is more than just entertainment. For many, it’s a window into what the world looks like to live authentically, unapologetically, without worry of what others think or believe of them for being themselves; drag is, more often than not, the first experience queer kids have with seeing their queerness expressed outwardly.
No one is trying to turn your children queer. If anything, queer folk are trying to protect them from the insecurities, bullying, and traumas they experienced at their young ages.
The fact that these superheroes don flouncy costumes and can do choreography on ice is all the more reason to celebrate them year-round.
If you weren’t in attendance for the drag performances taking to ice (or just want to revisit last week’s show), check out these pictures, below.
All photos are curtesy of the Safeway Holiday Ice Rink at Union Square
