A Few Words on Tipping the Velvet and Drag Kings

I was at a drag show not too long ago, and it got me thinking again of Tipping the Velvet and its portrayal of male impersonators in Victorian London.  The actual drag performances are a mixed bag – Rachael Stirling is glorious, and I’ve already voiced my lackluster feelings about Keeley Hawes – and the historical look at the practice is intriguing.  I’m so interested in drag, anyway, and media depictions of it, especially from other eras, offer a lot to explore.

First, I’ll admit that I don’t know a lot about what male impersonators were like in 19^th-century music halls, so I can’t speak to the miniseries’ accuracy or lack thereof.  I do think it’s neat that they appear to have been very mainstream.  Kitty and Nan hit it big in London, performing for what looks to be a pretty varied crowd.  True, they do a single routine in a show with many acts, so there are probably some people in their audiences who don’t care for them much, but they still get awfully famous.  While there’s a whiff of cheekiness to what they do and it’s a bit shocking for people, there’s not a sense that they belong to this underground niche that’s only for fringe groups and well-to-do people taking a detour into something scandalous. 

Once again, I simply don’t get how Kitty is supposed to be this astounding drag king.  There’s not a thing about her that projects masculinity.  Her voice – both singing and speaking – is high and soft, she doesn’t make any effort to mask her feminine features, and her demeanor is all wrong.  And yet, people praise her six ways to Sunday for making such a convincing boy.  Mystifying.  Technically, this performance might have been accurate for male impersonators of the time; like I said, I really don’t know.  Maybe simply seeing a woman in trousers with short hair was enough to spell “dude” for the Victorians.  I did notice that both Kitty and Nan are billed with their own names instead of with that of male drag personas.  And from a story perspective, I guess it makes sense to make her femininity so obvious, since seeing Kitty perform prompts Nan’s first sexual and romantic feelings.  However, I don’t know how anyone could look at her and commend her for her drag skills.

Nan, on the other hand, is a superb drag king.  Rachael Stirling’s husky voice, which she pitches even lower onstage, helps tremendously, but her look, posture, and movements all contribute to the effect.  She acts and carries herself like a man, and when she performs, she’s attractive in a distinctly masculine way.  I definitely buy that she can pass herself off as a man on the streets of London, whereas I’d never believe Kitty capable of the same. 

On a further note, I really like how Nan is appreciated for this quality.  The first time Kitty sees her in drag is the first time they kiss, and Mrs. Lethaby is completely enamored of the “handsome” Nan, often referring to Nan as her “boy” during their liaisons.  Yeah, it plays into the erroneous notion that, in same-sex relationships one person plays the “man” and the other the “woman,” but it also represents the far more seldom-shown idea that women who are thought of as masculine can be desirable.  With lesbian and bi women in the media so often portrayed as conventionally feminine, it can be harder to find queer women who are even slightly butch, and even then, it’s rare to see someone falling for them.  One might fall in love with other (usually conventionally feminine) women, and you may glimpse one in an already-established relationship (which probably doesn’t get much focus,) but to see another woman look at her and go, “She’s stunning!” doesn’t happen nearly enough.  Way to go, Tipping the Velvet!