Drag It Out.

Something about looking at drag queens makes me feel so nostalgic for my youth. No, I didn't spend my toddler days in tranny clubs, but I've always, always been completely smitten with the act of playing dress-up, and what is drag if not the ultimate dress-up party? I think photographer Kristen Elsby has an equal affection for the art of drag. Her Flickr stream is chock full of gorgeous shots of glamo-mamas in the most striking stages of getting ready. Here's a look:

Glam. Bam. Thank you, Ma'am.

Get Yourself An Education.

Halloween Drag Queens from New York's annual parade.

Halloween in New York is Drag Queen Day. It just is. The Girls come out to show off all their glory to fellow drag queens, gawking tourists, and slightly befuddled children of all ages.

Oops, that's not a Drag Queen, just Christina Aguilera going about her business.

Their theatrical makeup is the pride of their glory, and if you've ever wondered just what goes into their powder room routine as I have, here's a soup to hiding the nuts makeup tutorial on the ins and outs of a drag face. Granted this lovely (real) lady doesn't have to contend with stubble or anatomy issues, but her color techniques are top notch and fascinating and oh so thorough.



How much do you love the last seconds of that vid where her roommate comes home and stumbles upon her in dragness. Awesome, indeed. I think I'm going to go as a Drag Princess next Halloween. Yep, Anna, Queen of The Desert.

I Want (Madonna's) Candy

I was incredibly obsessed with Madonna at an inappropriately young age. I used to carry my cabbage patch cassette player with attached microphone around our apartment complex giving impromptu performances of Burning Up, complete with floor-writhing choreography, to anyone who would listen, or at least stand still long enough. When I was seven I begged my mother to take me to see Madonna's Blonde Ambition Tour. Yeah, the one where she has a little (big, loud, frantic) self-love session in her cone bra on a giant bed. That tour. Somehow my mom, who could quite arguably be the coolest mom ever, agreed to take me and even bought me a special outfit for the occasion. I picked out a hot pink and neon orange pouffy skirt with a matching zip-up hoodie from the local Kids R' Us and rocked it over leggings with alternating, double stacked scrunch socks. I was in heaven.

My Madonna obsession continued through many more years of midnight runs to the Sam Goody to pick up the latest CD, a day in line to be part of the studio audience when she was on MTV's TRL, and two more concerts. Mostly I loved seeing what she would wear day to day. She was a radical style setter, always a year or two before the wave of what was next. She was always creating visual spectacles, incredible videos, working with amazingly talented directors, photographers, and designers.

My Madge-session has cooled off in recent times. I always hoped that Madonna would age gracefully, embracing her vintage status with an edge that would encourage ladies to maintain a sexy elegance in their prime years like the incredible Carmen Dell'Orefice. Instead, she seems to be pumping her face full of restalyne to maintain some modicum of her past wiles. It's a bit disappointing to witness her join the Meg Ryan plumped, ageless, freaky face club. And so, I've lost a bit of interest.

However, my inner seven year old just simply couldn't turn down a friend's invitation to join her at MSG for Madonna's Sticky and Sweet Tour (pictured above) on Monday. I'm excited in spite of my fear that it will be akin to a Broadway revue of her greatest hits performed by Drag Queens. Is that harsh? Well, she'll probably prove me wrong. She's Madonna. She's a friggin' legend. In days past I would have watched her tie her shoes, or paint a room with no questions asked. So, I'm excited. I can't wait to see what the undeniably talented Arianne Phillips has done with the wardrobe. And if nothing else, I'm super jazzed to see Robyn sing Konichiwa Bitches as the opening act. Don't worry, I'll report in full soon enough.