I can recall hijras, a third gender person who in the West we would associate with trans identities and the drag persona, dancing at a family wedding. They were pirouetting on the spot, sequinned fabric trailing behind them as one of my earliest memories. From the onset I was captivated.
During my teens my first foray into the LGBT community was through the British cabaret drag scene, venues that I would find by searching late at night on the internet for ‘gay London’. Figures such as Sandra, Rose Garden and the great Regina Fong at legendary venues such as the Black Cap, the Two Brewers and Madame Jojo’s introduced me to drag as the centre of cabaret and, arguably, gay life. These illustrious queens combined wit, glamour with a pulse on current affairs often told hilariously through song, lip-sync and side-splitting banter. They helped me identify with my gay, male identity, shaping it through entertainment.
This grounding in British drag culture had me hooked and curious to explore further. I was driven by a hunger to satisfy my ethnic identity, something that was ignored in the LGBT scene – a scene one could suggest was whitewashed. Again, after a search on the internet, this time emboldened by my experiences, I began to discover south Asian LGBT nightclubs. At venues like the celebrated Club Kali I came across The Chutney Queens, a desi take on drag influenced by Bollywood, South Asian weddings and the hijra communities that amazed me as a child. Here were performers who created an illusion that resonated with me; hypereffeminate visions that resembled the women we grew up with, full of colour, charm and elegance.
Through them, I was able to explore and come to terms with my own desire to perform. At the time I felt that performing in drag was the only way to express my creative side but with time, and supported by the chants and ‘balle balle’ of the gay Asian community I came to understand that performing as ‘Asifa’ was more than my persona when doing a singsong. It was my true identity.
Attending and working at safe spaces such as Urban Desi allowed me to come to terms with my trans identity. These safe spaces played a pivotal role in my journey to transition, and spurred me to start Disco Rani, a Bollywood and bhangra LGBT night that celebrates all facets of being ‘gaysian’ – and most importantly a safe space for those wishing to express themselves.
London is a city thriving with diverse drag scenes and, in an era where bio and transgender queens are being finally recognised, I like to think back to that memory of me, a little child mesmerised by the street performers, It gives me strength and I’m thankful for how their expression of their gender ultimately shaped my life today.
Asifa Lahore is a trans woman and one of the UK’s first out Muslim drag queens