Unpaid Spokeswomen #4

Welcome to Unpaid Spokeswomen, a column where we log what we’ve been into this week. Behind the wigs, makeup, costumes, and several layers of irony, we are two humans who genuinely enjoy doing things. Here is a weekly roundup of our unfiltered expert recommendations.

This week, we enjoyed video games, oral care, sewing tools, and Dapper Cadavers.

Trixie: 

Animal Crossing: I recently partnered with The American Heart Association to do a fundraising stream on Twitch. Since my mom has congestive heart failure, I wanted to get in on the cause. Enthusiastic to play video games for money and good karma, I was smiling on a zoom when the news was broke to me that I was expected to play a game I vowed to never engage with- Animal Crossing. After avoiding Animal Crossing for years, I was depressed to have finally been outlasted by the terminally delightful simulator. I paid $60 for it on my Switch which was as far as I was concerned about as fair as being sexually assaulted under a bridge. However, upon starting the little game and dumping in a few hours, I regret to inform that I was wrong. The game is fabulous, calming, and worthy of at least $59. As a person who loves The Sims, I should have known I would like an open ended game like this. However, the game does present as adult Blue’s Clues as I originally had professed. Maybe this isn’t the game you tell your trade about.

Total Care Zero Listerine: I am a person who loves a clean mouth. My hole can be rank, my nails can look like I clawed my way out of a coffin that was buried in shit, and my skin can be glazed in a thin film of scum, but my mouth is where I have become a bit of a neat freak. Nothing finishes off my oral care ritual of brushing, flossing, and using a WaterPik like a nice swishy-swish with Total Care Zero Listerine.  You are left with an impossibly clean feeling in your mouth, but it’s alcohol free so it DOES NOT BURN. Imagine! The minty security of a mouth rinse without the burning heartbreak of an alcoholic mouth tissue exfoliation. Given that I grew up with hillbilly teeth and have accidentally situated myself in a career where I sit on camera next to a person who has flawless chompers, you can trust me as someone whose oral health is in a constant state of renovation.

Listerine Total Care!

Katya:

Little Brother (Brother sewing machine): As an Italian-American, I know more than anyone that family means everything. But as a baptised Roman Catholic, I am all too familiar with the burning shame of incest. That’s why I decided to teach myself how to sew. I started making my own costumes over a decade ago without having received any formal training. Soon after I began doing drag I grew wary of purchasing  clothes off the rack.  I was also quite poor at the time, so creating my own costumes would save me a fortune, as two yards of fabric (as low as $4) could yield an entire cat suit! So  I went to Sears to purchase a sewing machine and that is when the taboo love affair with my little Brother began. Like many young love stories, those early months of fumbling around in the dark were filled with  jammed gears, broken needles and helpless cries of frustration. But eventually trial and error gave way to pump and grind as yards and yards of discount spandex were cut and stitched into form-fitting sweat-soaked stage wear soon to be stuffed with dollar bills. I received many valuable construction tips here and there from more experienced friends and relied heavily on the kindness of strangers via youtube sewing tutorials, but due to my lack of patience and delusional confidence I usually just winged it. I have used this machine to make nearly every outfit I wore before, during, and after drag race! It has never been serviced by a professional, I’ve even packed him in a suitcase (shhh!) and took him overseas for some hot, late-night alterations, and he returned home safe and sound, ready to spring back into lurid, lascivious action. 

For the sake of contrast consider this: I work in my studio alongside my friend who went to fashion school and who uses a large industrial machine built into a heavy table filled with disgusting oil. And the price tag on that beast? Think one thousand dollars and up. Does his machine soar through fabric at lightning speed with incredible precision and industrial power? Sure? But can he pick up his machine with one hand like a six pack and run across a burning building to safety? I think the fuck not! Long story short, I fucking this love my little $80 piece of shit, and even though I have had many opportunities to upgrade to a finer, fancier model, I just never want to stop fucking with my good ole little Brother.

Me and my little brother.

Big Sister (elderly Edith bust) As an Italian-American in my early forties, I know what it’s like to be lonely. I’ve loved and I’ve lost, but at the end of the day, I’ve learned that while friends may fade and lovers often leave, you can always count on family. I’m not talking about biological families– too complicated.  I’m talking about chosen ones, specifically those who are chosen and purchased from websites. That’s where I met and ordered my big sister Edith. I know what you’re thinking, “What?” Let me elaborate. I was browsing the internet to add to my growing collection of artificial arms and legs (see next week’s column) when I came across a zippy little website called “Dapper Cadaver” Once I laid my tired eyes on their aggressively outdated web design it was love at first site. Admittedly, this is a splurge at $175 and one could argue that my Big Sis merely takes up space, doesn’t do all that much, and couldn’t carry even a fraction of the workload that Lil Bro pumps out. But I assure you that the amount of joy and fear she has aroused in me and others over the years has been priceless. And don’t get it twisted, she’s not just another motionless sight gag– massage therapists in training will no doubt have taken notice of her shapely shoulders and bare décolletage– perfect for racking up those required practice hours for your certification. I just can’t say enough about her, and I don’t need to– just look at her! Look at her!