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Press
HX September 14,2001 Homo Dish (excerpt)
None of our drag escapades could compare to the real Wigstock. And we couldn’t have asked for a more gorgeous day. The weather was perfect for drinking beer and taking in the spectacle. The pier was packed as thousands of onlookers worshiped their favorite drag performers. There was the usual mix of serious art, irreverent numbers, legitimate musical acts and crass humor, presented by performers both glamour ours and grotesque. But the thing we truly admire about Wigstock id its social conciousness. That the performers aren’t afraid to tackle the big issues with tact, intelligence and glitter. (This was best illustrated four years ago when Princess Diana died right before Wigstock and everyone dresser up like her for the festival.) This year, we couldn’t help but applaud the Lizzi Grubman look-alikes. And the jokes! What does Lizzie Grubman call her SUV? A white trash compactor. Did you hear they raised the price to get in to Conscience Point? It now costs an arm and a leg! At one point a facsimile of Lizzie herself walked onstage to address the audience, only to be run down by a cardboard cut out of the Lizziemobile. Then there was the beer guzzling, burping Mariah Scary, who screamed her way through “Emotions” before having a nervous breakdown on stage. And during the infamous Laugh-In rip-off , er homage, there was this gem of a joke: “What’s the difference between Neil Armstrong and Michael Jackson? Neil Armstrong was the first man to walk on the moon, and Michael Jackson fucks little boys up the ass! And people brought children to the festival!
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