September 7, 1999

By Michael Musto

	Michael Musto

My tired ass has watched Wigstock morph over the years from an East Villagey performance-art showcase to a splashy showbiz parade dripping in production numbers-but what production numbers! From Shasta Cola's mammoth homage to Björk to Richard Move's inspired tribute to Martha Graham ,done to the score from Psycho, this year's dragfest was a spectacular revue fit for a slightly left-of-center TV variety show. There was way more razzmatazz than transgressive art onstage, but it was still hard to avert one's eyes from the hairy legs, tucked penises, drizzled-on pantyhose, and constantly lip-synching mouths.
Interestingly, the "real" entertainment biz weaseled in from every which way, courtesy of Broadway's Saturday Night Fever ("I get dissed and raped," said the cute singer Orfeh before launching into "If I Can't Have You") and Hollywood's Flawless (local queens-made-good enacted the title song, an ode to perfection). Female model Kylie Bax even dropped by to promote The Big Tease, a Scottish hairdressing flick she's featured in, only to have Wigstock high priestess Lady Bunny quip to her onstage, "I can tell you're a supermodel because of the tracks on your arm." And the music biz showed off its tracks with way too many long-winded dance acts, reminding me of my recurring nightmare that Kristine W is still singing from last year's Wigstock. But I don't care-this event is still the best excuse to pretend you're a woman since 12-carat wedding rings!