I’m from Western Massachusetts, and I am lucky to have super eclectic parents who are really into pop culture. The Birdcage and To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar were the staples of my childhood and how I was introduced to drag. I am a Michael Jackson fanatic, and in high school, my guidance counselor would let me perform in the cafeteria during lunch. I guess that was the first time I essentially was doing drag, because I would go to school dressed like Michael Jackson. Mind you, I’m going to school in 2003, not 1983.

My parents are children of the ’80s, so everything I used to listen to is from them. When I got older, I became obsessed with the ’80s because there’s a sense of glamour and pizzazz that I don’t see with particular male artists today. You know — the sparkle, the star quality. And it all had more impact because those were the days of physical media; you could have something and look at it. And now everything is on a screen, so it’s fleeting.

I am Puerto Rican, and when I first started drag, I always would focus on very Americanized hip-hop, R&B, New Jack Swing. But in the last couple of years, being introduced to more Latin music, I’ve really tapped into my roots. And Bad Bunny is someone who has given me the inspiration. Like I said, male performers are so boring. But seeing him…

It’s a little bit hard in the scene because drag kings are very much tokenized. The business of drag is still very much a boys’ club. It’s funny when you think about it, because, you know, everyone’s gender is all over the place. But at the top, it’s very much men who are controlling who gets the money, who gets the opportunities. It’s kind of hard to make a name for yourself. But once you get in there, it’s up to you to create opportunities for other people.

I’d probably say, like, $800 to $1,000. One of my trademarks is rhinestones. At one time, my costumes have at least, like, $300 worth of rhinestones on them, plus the labor that it takes to put on the rhinestones, plus the makeup, shoes, accessories. The thing that’s annoying about being a drag king is it’s all about separates. I gotta get gloves. I gotta get a vest. I gotta get a suit. There’s maintenance — like, I get a haircut every time I do drag.

I’ll tell you one caveat: Drag queens are always like, “You don’t have to wear heels. You don’t have to wear corsets. Blah, blah, blah.” And I’m always like, “Have you ever done drag on your period? Be quiet.” [Laughs] And not every drag queen has a period, and not every drag queen doesn’t have a period, you know?

Ten years into my career, people still ask me what a drag king is. But I think it’s going to become more mainstream. You have to be a little bit careful because you’re gonna lose the mystique of drag. Right now, I feel like there’s overexposure to drag queens; we’re having drag fatigue. Which is why I think we need new types of drag, new silhouettes, new types of people, new demographics — shake it up a little bit. But we’re in a renaissance of drag kings. There are festivals popping up: Emerald City Kings Ball in Seattle; there just was one in Toronto. I think we’re gonna take over, and I’m ready for it. Then, I’m gonna clock out and retire.