>> PAYTON: Two queens and one king stand before me.

But what's life really like on the drag stage in the Midwest?

♪ >> PAYTON: Hello, and welcome to "Flyover Culture," your guided tour to pop culture in the Midwest.

I'm Payton Whaley.

>> How you doing, everyone?

[ Cheers ] >> PAYTON: I'm in Bloomington, Indiana, which is by no means a small town, but it's also a far cry from major cities like New York or Chicago or San Francisco, where the art of drag is abundant.

The Midwest also has a certain reputation for how it treats queer people and spaces.

That's why I wanted to get to know some local drag performers and hear about their experiences on stage in the heartland.

>> Hi, I'm Oriana Peron.

I am a Bloomington, Indiana-based drag queen.

>> I'm Vicki St. James.

>> My name is Verna Vendetta, and I'm a drag king, and just sort of performance artist in general.

>> I always, kind of, loved the idea of drag.

Like, I just -- I have been taking blankets as a kid, and, like, wrapping them around my waist and calling myself beautiful princess since I was 6.

Like, there's not really any logical step for me to, like, don on some sequins, and, like, double stack hair, and, like, wander out into the world.

>> Drag is really just an overly dramatic caricature of either a character or maybe a gender, you know, sort of poking fun at gender stereotypes, and just anything that your particular character that you might be dressed up as might be involved in.

>> PAYTON: Verna's been in the game for about 7 years, Oriana for 10, and Vicki has been doing drag for 35 years.

A lot has changed since she started.

>> More versatile, more selections, more -- different types of drag now.

When I came out, the whole idea was to fool everybody, and it was -- we didn't like to use the word "drag."

We wanted to use the word "female impersonators" because it was not trying to be something that stood out.

We wanted to look like women on stage, in stage makeup and stage costumes.

It progressed from being pretty and delicate and feminine, to then there were the hard heavy dancers later on, and everyone started to do more dance music rather than glamor.

And club kiddish kind of got in there for a while.

>> PAYTON: As a drag king, someone who often performs in more masculine drag, Verna's vastly outnumbered by the queens in the scene.

So I asked them what people often get wrong about drag kings.

>> There are a lot more drag kings out there than anybody knows about.

We pretty much all know each other.

Mostly, you are going to see drag queens on the stage because, unfortunately, like, the rest of the world we live in, a lot of smaller circles are still typically a boy's club.

They're still typically run by a cis white man, and he's going to employ his best friends.

The stereotype with kings that I have heard drag queens say is, you know, we don't work as hard.

We don't have as good of costumes.

We are not as entertaining.

I'm just like, well, you know, I pad certain areas, and then I strap other areas down with duct tape, just like you do, so it's not easy.

And it still takes me two hours to put on makeup, because, you know, I don't look like this either.

>> PAYTON: In the broad sense, the art form goes back hundreds and hundreds of years.

But my boss says my videos are too long.

So let's stick with Indiana.

Indianapolis has long been the state's epicenter for drag, which can be traced back to the 19th century in traveling minstrel shows.

And the first performance by a female impersonator was recorded on Indiana Avenue in 1910.

The avenue is famous for its jazz history, but also for its lesser known queer history.

It was the main street for Black culture in a segregated city.

The first pansy ball was held on August 5th, 1933, and by all accounts, was a huge success.

2,000 attendees with 1,000 more waiting outside to get in.

The backlash was less encouraging.

Newspapers pushed for police to intervene, and in 1933, the police chief was praised for his crackdown on these kinds of shows.

And while Indiana Avenue thrived for a time, about halfway through the century, the Black community was pushed out.

And by the '70s and '80s, as Stephen Lane writes: But those early Black queens were responsible for visibility of both drag and queer community throughout the state.

Performer Miss Thang told "Indy Star," For the performers I was able to speak with, drag today is any number of things, music, dance, comedy, pageants, or just a general form of self-expression.

So what got them into the art form?

>> I had always wanted to try burlesque.

And so there was a show happening locally that was looking for new performers.

And I had had some experience on the stage as a belly dancer prior to getting into burlesque and drag, but I always knew that, like, you know, hopefully burlesque was something that I would be able to try one day.

I just like the whole, like, storytelling aspect of putting together a costume to a song that you really love.

And I like to try to think of surprises.

You know, so what could I do to surprise the audience?

I call it shenanigans.

>> My mom and I took a trip when I was 9ish to Rhode Island.

We were going to go camping, and it was raining.

So we stayed in the city that we were nearby which was Provincetown.

And we're wandering around, and I'm, like, noticing -- I'm, like, four supersized barbies.

I'm, like, I have to say something.

And so I lean into my mom -- because, like, there's just drag queens everywhere!

And I lean into my mom, and I just said, these women are really tall!

Totally serious.

And she just said, well, those are actually men.

And I said, oh.

Okay.

What kid just goes, oh, okay, and doesn't become a drag queen later?

>> The original gateway was I was in a small town, and I didn't have very many gay friends, and the only ones that befriended me were a group of drag queens.

And then when I was kind of pushed out of my family comfort zone, those drag queens took care of me.

And then one day they just said, let us put you in makeup, and it never stopped after that.

>> PAYTON: Whether it's through drag parents, drag kids, or full on drag houses, mentorship is huge!

Performers early on will often adopt their drag parent's name to let others know who showed them the ropes.

>> So the bar at The Back Door was just getting started.

I was showing one of the owners some of my cosplays, and they were, like, well, we should do a Disney show.

And we've got a drag queen who hosts our shows, Argenta Perone.

And so I performed in it, and I was, like, maybe -- maybe she's born with it.

Maybe it's definitely Maybelline makeup from CVS Pharmaceuticals, and I should not have been wearing that on stage, but it was a cute attempt.

And she kind of took a shine to me in that moment.

And by the Halloween show a few months later, I had adopted the last name Peron, and she was officially my drag mother.

>> PAYTON: But Vicki does things a little differently.

>> I probably have about seven daughters, and probably that many boys too.

I never let my drag daughters take my name.

I always make sure they have their own name, but I have a lot of boys too, drag sons.

And I let all of them take the St. James name, because I didn't want them to have to live in my shadow or be compared to me.

So I wanted them to be able to stand on their own.

>> PAYTON: These three have performed all over the country, Florida, Texas, Pennsylvania.

So how do the Midwest and Indiana compare?

>> Indiana used to be one of the peak places for drag.

In the '80s, up until the mid-'90s, a lot of national title holders are from Indiana or won their titles in Indiana.

But then Indiana's kind of closed minded and backwards a little bit, in pockets.

But, like, Florida and Texas, they just don't care.

The more over the top, the more glamorous, the more active you are on stage, they're supportive of it all.

That's my experience.

>> PAYTON: Even with more mainstream visibility, thanks to things like "RuPaul's Drag Race" and "The Bachelorette Party Industrial Complex," exclusively queer spaces are still at a premium.

>> Growing up, like, there was this whole movement with signs that popped up when I was in high school, and it was no hate.

Not in our town.

Not in our -- like, and it was like, no, no, no, no not here.

Those signs were everywhere, and at the same time as I would walk to high school or walk home, people would shout out of their car windows faggot!

Like, in the same place.

Like, I had my life threatened in high school by people who got my AOL Instant Messenger screen name.

These things were happening to me while it looked as if, you know, the town was rallying for positivity and change, which it was, but these things were still occurring -- And not that they don't still occur today.

They absolutely do.

-- which is why I think that it is extremely important to make sure that there are spaces.

You know, straight people are like, oh, it's too much.

It's too much.

Like, you guys have enough.

It's like, no, we don't have enough.

If I were to have a partner, I would not still feel safe holding their hand walking down the street.

>> PAYTON: It's not too long ago that Vicki says her drag got her in trouble with the cops.

>> Well, when I first started, by law you had to have three articles of men's clothing if you were in drag.

And I was actually pulled over before on Highway 69 coming back from Indianapolis going to Anderson with my girlfriends.

And the police officer pulled us over because he couldn't see through the car because we all had big wigs on.

And he made us get out on the side of 69 -- it was probably about 11:00, and made us disrobe to prove that we were wearing our three articles of men's clothing, and made us -- after that, made us all take off our wigs and ride home without our wigs on.

We got by with it because we wore our regular boy underwear at the time, and then we put a pair of socks in one bra cup and a pair of socks in the other, and it counted as three articles of men's clothing.

So we didn't get arrested.

And it was humiliating!

People going by honking their horns, watching us out there.

I'm sure they haven't changed it, but I don't think they're enforced now.

>> PAYTON: The three article rule Vicki mention was used by police to harass LGBTQ people throughout the 20th century.

Problem is, the law that cops referenced when enforcing the rule never actually existed.

It was more of an informal rule of thumb used by police to justify stops and arrests.

History's Hugh Ryan says the enforcement of the rule was curbed following 1969's Stonewall riots, just apparently not in Indiana.

Creating safe spaces for LGBTQ people is crucial, but Oriana says they shouldn't just be relegated to bars.

>> I would like to have places that I can go that don't inherently involve alcohol.

It also makes the spaces more accessible for younger audiences, which is something that I am acutely aware of when I'm, like, creating a show, or trying to do something within the community, or even, like, in my shows that I have created on tour to various anime conventions across the Midwest.

My first thought is, like, how can I include everyone to be in the audience?

>> And especially at conventions, we're able to do all ages drag shows.

So we are doing all of our acts, you know, the appropriate ones anyway, in front of people of all ages.

And a lot of times, it's in the middle of the day as well.

And so it's accessible suddenly to kids, teenagers, people that can't stay out until 1:00 in the morning.

And so they're getting a lot of their first experience with sort of a queer community or an extension of that.

And then, you know, queerness being celebrated, like in such a glittery package.

>> I mean, we're in southern Indiana.

We have to, like, remember where we are.

It's taken some time, but I feel like we're gayer than we ever have been.

[ Laughter ] ♪ >> PAYTON: What's next?

Where do these performers see drag here going?

>> With the pandemic happening, a lot of shows were converted to digital, but that was really hard for people like me who are not tech savvy.

A lot of folks are still doing digital shows, and I think it's really awesome because these shows now are suddenly accessible to audiences that wouldn't have been able to see anything like this elsewhere.

You might never have to get on a stage if you don't want to or you can't get hired.

You can just put this on in your living room, and, you know, put all of your art out on the Internet.

>> There's been tug and pull about what someone who is on stage needs to have, and by that I mean, nails, breasts, hips, and there's been a lot of pushback from the up and coming crop of entertainers to be more androgynous, to be nonbinary, to be themselves on stage.

To say, my body doesn't need to conform to your idealized version of a woman in order for me to be valued on stage.

Absolutely true!

And they are proving their point by getting shows and being successful.

And I hire a lot of them to come with me to anime conventions because a lot of them are nerds, and they have cosplays and things.

And so we go, and then they see, like, all of these people in the audience that just, like, immediately start adoring them.

And I love watching that.

Like, that just makes me so happy to see somebody that's, like, oh, I have been beaten down.

And, like, you know, I'm having a really hard time, like, making it.

And then I bring them to one of these conventions, and, like, to just watch them smile nonstop, like, all weekend, is just, like -- I love that.

>> PAYTON: Spending hours each week designing looks, creating choreography and getting painted isn't something you do as a light hobby.

So I asked them what's drag mean to them?

>> I get out of it everything I knew that I couldn't be as a child, that I was fearful of as a child.

I wanted to be Daphne on "Scooby Doo" or Ginger on "Gilligan's Island."

And now, you know, I mean, I got to be that redhead on stage, and I get to live out and pretend to be glamorous and all these things when really I'm just another little girl from Indiana, you know?

>> Doing drag for me has been sort of the road to confidence, body positivity, getting over fears, realizing that I can carve a place for myself in a world that is not necessarily made for introverts.

I'm going to keep going until it's not fun anymore.

>> Drag for me is like the ultimate release.

It's, like, all of my anxiety, all of my, like, depression, all of my emotions, like, my happiness, my anger, my sorrow, like, all of it, and then it's just, like, out there.

I'm somebody that has -- that's neuro divergent, that has a lot of things that I have to do in order to make it in a neuro typical's world.

And for me, when I'm in drag, all of the, like, masking things that I would normally do are gone.

There's no more box.

There's no more box.

>> PAYTON: A massive thank you to Vicki St. James, Verna Vendetta and Oriana Peron, as well as to The Back Door in Bloomington for letting us shoot there.

And if you want a closer look at drag history, I recommend you check out "Masters of Drag" from PBS and American Masters.

Great stuff.

I will see you in just two weeks for something tasty.

See you next time.

>> So, yeah, I saw drag queens when I was 9 in Rhode Island and it made me gay.