"Let Me Take A Fucking Hit"
"Let Me Take A Fucking Hit"
"Let Me Take A Fucking Hit"
"Let Me Take A Fucking Hit"
BY DEZZ JUST DEZZ
BY DEZZ JUST DEZZ
BY DEZZ JUST DEZZ
BY DEZZ JUST DEZZ
January 31, 2025
January 31, 2025
January 31, 2025
January 31, 2025

Soaked in bleach, I called Indica on a Thursday night.
Admittedly, we might have been a bit unprepared; myself with sopping hair, and her, apologizing for the shuffling noises of her night time house cleaning. Though I admired that, for both of us, it was a natural state, and in an industry built on perception, we kept our cameras off.
Indica’s first impression of drag was, “a gross and seedy experience,” her still being in high school while attending Latrice Royale’s post-prison benefit, but having faced the swing state of South Florida and then Donald Trump’s first term in her return to Pittsburgh, the disgusting qualities became what she loved the most. “I felt like I was actually able to see the world…through the lens of more grit and more trauma…” This state of grittiness, while we agreed is not to be glamorized, can still be the most genuine. Drag is a “subversive art form,” but it doesn’t make you invaluable, and to Indica, “...sometimes it makes you the smartest person in the room.” It allows you, and has allowed Indica herself, to navigate the world with more openness. There’s a humanity to be found in the American sense of terror, and while appearing unfortunate, breeds something beautiful in all of us.
We’re shaped by our experiences, not only as individuals, but in our careers, goals, and aspirations. You cannot talk about Indica without talking about the production juggernaut that is one of her recurring shows at P-Town Bar, Another Party (@anotherpartypittsburgh). This drag empire didn’t come out of nowhere, and like any other form of queer discovery, went through many phases and iterations. Indica refers to the past of Another Party as the “ugly step-child party.” The series began with Amanda Lepore, prioritizing its alternativeness to another large scale event, and blossomed into showcasing queens like Fantasia Royale Gaga, Morphine Love Dion, and a perfect send off for our hometown starlet, Lydia B. Kollins. “It was a ‘fuck you’ to the man…and kind of became the man…I’m still grappling with that.” Another Party shaped into a place that honors drag and expands its point of view from Pittsburgh to all over the country, and in the case of queens like Envy Peru, the world. “But…my perspective with my parties has never been to promote RuPaul’s Drag Race. Drag Race is doing that on their own.” With a frequently large cast size, Indica admits that the “Ru Girls” are the ticket-selling name to push the attending crowd into seeing something different.
The focus has always been to highlight more than just one facet of drag, booking local entertainers as well as individuals from other cities who do not owe themselves to the Drag Race franchise. Indica is not a representative FOR Pittsburgh drag, but she believes herself to be an “ambassador” TO the city. While she may not be attempting to glamorize the concept of trauma, she is glamorizing the city and the art that has made its home here within it. “What I try to do, is I try to interject big city thinking and…ideas into a city that might have the heart of a small town.”
Though in a small town, or otherwise, you can’t make everybody happy, a lesson necessary to learn in the entertainment industry. The question, or even the complaint, often lies within the concept of success. “How do you get into the door when you feel the door is closed?” Indica prioritizes the idea of growth. If everything is seemingly handed to you, it will never feel as gratifying as if you worked up to what you truly want. What use is a win if it was not earned? More so, what are the qualities, even outside of pageantry and/or television, that qualify someone as a“big” entertainer?
In a similar vein, other entertainers believe that there is a lack of opportunity, but what is the true meaning of opportunity in this context? “If you view P-Town and Blue Moon as the limit…you’re going to feel frustrated.” Indica’s call for action is for those that carry that kind of passion to channel that not into blame on her, or any other show promoter for that matter, but to make an effort in creating more opportunities. Make your own spaces if you do not believe in the spaces that are expected and accessible. Systemic change is only possible with community, and to individualize the need for change will never increase the rate in a way that truly matters. In today’s climate, “While we’re pointing our fingers at each other, they’re getting ready to point guns at us.”
What projects you forward doesn’t boil down to this concept of “niceness” that is often used when describing a healthy dynamic within the scene. Where does the sense of entitlement to your peers’ personal lives, or even more broadly their dedication to you as an individual, come from? That question may not be answerable beyond the misidentification of community, but the cure, so to speak, is to “Lead with respect, not trying to be friends with everyone.” Indica notes that in drag, much like in the theatre scene where her love for performance originated, “networking is everything.” Networking, though, rarely ever equates to friendship, and it's important to be not only respectful, but also professional. Are you on time? Is every opportunity equal to you? The standards for drag have transformed so much over time, as Indica recalls payment being $25 and a drink ticket, but the shift in the social aspects have also been incredibly drastic.
Indica accredits a large portion of this societal modification to the pandemic, but in the same breath, shares that “rapid change is something I don’t think you ever get used to.” Covid-19 limited drag to online spaces, and while some entertainers are able to flourish in this sphere, it ultimately left the culture at large to struggle when returning to physical communication. Indica was assistant to, arguably, one of the most controversially recognizable figures, Sharon Needles, and while this relationship dynamic bred a lot of uncertainty and upset, it was incredibly influential in her drag journey. A lot of her big ticket connections were formed from traveling alongside her, but what made those connections withstand the test of time, and even more specifically, the rage of cancel culture having surrounded Sharon in 2020, was entirely based in Indica’s personality.
Indica, as a drag character, fronts with an air of confidence, or as we frequently referenced in our call, “snarkiness.” However, she still has a sense of insecurity, and whether that stems from bookings or otherwise, we were able to acknowledge that there is always someone who will appear to be doing “better” than you are. Her message within all of this remains, and as she frequently shares with old photos, “It gets better.” The most striking example of rapid change within Indica’s career circles back around the controversy behind Sharon, noting the night before a document about her had been released, and the chaos that ensued afterwards. This chaos, though not only built off of the allegations towards her working partner, was interpersonal, and it caused Indica to feel as though the two were “trauma bonded” for a period of time. Despite both Indica and Sharon not remaining in contact with one another currently, they saw something in one another at the time.“We were there for each other…What I saw was someone who was deeply hurt and needed someone, and I needed someone.”
While the topic of Sharon Needles, is a beast in and of itself, the takeaway is not what is right or wrong, but how you are able to grow from it. There will always be people who take issue with either queen, just as much as they are able to take issue with anyone else in the public eye, but there also must be a form of empowerment in the ability to be shady and shaded. This type of commentary does not make the voice it's spoken from inherently evil. However, there’s a bit of a crossroad in all encompassing social politics and the idea of entertainment in its most simplistic form of being enjoyable. Indica says to “revel in the absurdity,” to not take anything, including yourself, too seriously. “We’re playing dress up,” a sentiment we both shared about the culture, but is it really the world that makes us mean? Is “rotted” the standard? A cliche within the drag world ties back into reading each other, but that stereotype is not baseless, unique to queerness, or even inherently negative. “The best type of drag…has been based in reading each other.”
And it makes sense to carry around this energy almost like irritability, when “Queer people have had to use their tongue to fight back against their oppressors their entire life.” It’s ingrained in all of us to be challenging the systems and not to be complicit to them, even when those systems can appear to be entwined with our own spaces. Indica and I both emphasize the importance of humanity. She has her reads down to a science, disguising true compliments by presenting them as sandwiched between comments that are more cheeky. It’s become an expectation when speaking to Indica that she will respond snarkily, but this mask that her persona has formed is what makes her positive commentary all the more meaningful.
Drag, as an institution, exists within the levels of communication, but the authentic visualization enters through personality. Indica is a big personality, but that formation could not exist without one of Pittsburgh drag’s key descriptors we’ve already referenced, grit. Indica has participated in drag from places like New York City as well as Miami, but having functioned with the Haus of Haunt, and now to the popularization Haus of Kollins, she doesn’t compare the two on a personal left of those involved, but in the power in both of their alternativeness, grunginess, and irreverence. “Legendary status doesn’t happen overnight,” but the work put in means that it will always pay off, no matter what that timeline may look like. There is no way to control the world around us, but there are ways to indulge in its insanity. Indica has become a master of the party scene, and has created space for nothing besides the passion for the craft to be taken too seriously.
Ultimately, entertainment exists for the purpose of enjoyment, from the audience, to the creative process, to the stage, and to the actualization of the self, but before any of that can be truly satisfying, you must sit back, relax, accept yourself, and take a fucking hit.
Soaked in bleach, I called Indica on a Thursday night.
Admittedly, we might have been a bit unprepared; myself with sopping hair, and her, apologizing for the shuffling noises of her night time house cleaning. Though I admired that, for both of us, it was a natural state, and in an industry built on perception, we kept our cameras off.
Indica’s first impression of drag was, “a gross and seedy experience,” her still being in high school while attending Latrice Royale’s post-prison benefit, but having faced the swing state of South Florida and then Donald Trump’s first term in her return to Pittsburgh, the disgusting qualities became what she loved the most. “I felt like I was actually able to see the world…through the lens of more grit and more trauma…” This state of grittiness, while we agreed is not to be glamorized, can still be the most genuine. Drag is a “subversive art form,” but it doesn’t make you invaluable, and to Indica, “...sometimes it makes you the smartest person in the room.” It allows you, and has allowed Indica herself, to navigate the world with more openness. There’s a humanity to be found in the American sense of terror, and while appearing unfortunate, breeds something beautiful in all of us.
We’re shaped by our experiences, not only as individuals, but in our careers, goals, and aspirations. You cannot talk about Indica without talking about the production juggernaut that is one of her recurring shows at PTown Bar, Another Party (@anotherpartypittsburgh). This drag empire didn’t come out of nowhere, and like any other form of queer discovery, went through many phases and iterations. Indica refers to the past of Another Party as the “ugly step-child party.” The series began with Amanda Lepore, prioritizing its alternativeness to another large scale event, and blossomed into showcasing queens like Fantasia Royale Gaga, Morphine Love Dion, and a perfect send off for our hometown starlet, Lydia B. Kollins. “It was a ‘fuck you’ to the man…and kind of became the man…I’m still grappling with that.” Another Party shaped into a place that honors drag and expands its point of view from Pittsburgh to all over the country, and in the case of queens like Envy Peru, the world. “But…my perspective with my parties has never been to promote RuPaul’s Drag Race. Drag Race is doing that on their own.” With a frequently large cast size, Indica admits that the “Ru Girls” are the ticket-selling name to push the attending crowd into seeing something different.
The focus has always been to highlight more than just one facet of drag, booking local entertainers as well as individuals from other cities who do not owe themselves to the Drag Race franchise. Indica is not a representative FOR Pittsburgh drag, but she believes herself to be an “ambassador” TO the city. While she may not be attempting to glamorize the concept of trauma, she is glamorizing the city and the art that has made its home here within it. “What I try to do, is I try to interject big city thinking and…ideas into a city that might have the heart of a small town.”
Though in a small town, or otherwise, you can’t make everybody happy, a lesson necessary to learn in the entertainment industry. The question, or even the complaint, often lies within the concept of success. “How do you get into the door when you feel the door is closed?” Indica prioritizes the idea of growth. If everything is seemingly handed to you, it will never feel as gratifying as if you worked up to what you truly want. What use is a win if it was not earned? More so, what are the qualities, even outside of pageantry and/or television, that qualify someone as a“big” entertainer?
In a similar vein, other entertainers believe that there is a lack of opportunity, but what is the true meaning of opportunity in this context? “If you view P-Town and Blue Moon as the limit…you’re going to feel frustrated.” Indica’s call for action is for those that carry that kind of passion to channel that not into blame on her, or any other show promoter for that matter, but to make an effort in creating more opportunities. Make your own spaces if you do not believe in the spaces that are expected and accessible. Systemic change is only possible with community, and to individualize the need for change will never increase the rate in a way that truly matters. In today’s climate, “While we’re pointing our fingers at each other, they’re getting ready to point guns at us.”
What projects you forward doesn’t boil down to this concept of “niceness” that is often used when describing a healthy dynamic within the scene. Where does the sense of entitlement to your peers’ personal lives, or even more broadly their dedication to you as an individual, come from? That question may not be answerable beyond the misidentification of community, but the cure, so to speak, is to “Lead with respect, not trying to be friends with everyone.” Indica notes that in drag, much like in the theatre scene where her love for performance originated, “networking is everything.” Networking, though, rarely ever equates to friendship, and it's important to be not only respectful, but also professional. Are you on time? Is every opportunity equal to you? The standards for drag have transformed so much over time, as Indica recalls payment being $25 and a drink ticket, but the shift in the social aspects have also been incredibly drastic.
Indica accredits a large portion of this societal modification to the pandemic, but in the same breath, shares that “rapid change is something I don’t think you ever get used to.” Covid-19 limited drag to online spaces, and while some entertainers are able to flourish in this sphere, it ultimately left the culture at large to struggle when returning to physical communication. Indica was assistant to, arguably, one of the most controversially recognizable figures, Sharon Needles, and while this relationship dynamic bred a lot of uncertainty and upset, it was incredibly influential in her drag journey. A lot of her big ticket connections were formed from traveling alongside her, but what made those connections withstand the test of time, and even more specifically, the rage of cancel culture having surrounded Sharon in 2020, was entirely based in Indica’s personality.
Indica, as a drag character, fronts with an air of confidence, or as we frequently referenced in our call, “snarkiness.” However, she still has a sense of insecurity, and whether that stems from bookings or otherwise, we were able to acknowledge that there is always someone who will appear to be doing “better” than you are. Her message within all of this remains, and as she frequently shares with old photos, “It gets better.” The most striking example of rapid change within Indica’s career circles back around the controversy behind Sharon, noting the night before a document about her had been released, and the chaos that ensued afterwards. This chaos, though not only built off of the allegations towards her working partner, was interpersonal, and it caused Indica to feel as though the two were “trauma bonded” for a period of time. Despite both Indica and Sharon not remaining in contact with one another currently, they saw something in one another at the time.“We were there for each other…What I saw was someone who was deeply hurt and needed someone, and I needed someone.”
While the topic of Sharon Needles, is a beast in and of itself, the takeaway is not what is right or wrong, but how you are able to grow from it. There will always be people who take issue with either queen, just as much as they are able to take issue with anyone else in the public eye, but there also must be a form of empowerment in the ability to be shady and shaded. This type of commentary does not make the voice it's spoken from inherently evil. However, there’s a bit of a crossroad in all encompassing social politics and the idea of entertainment in its most simplistic form of being enjoyable. Indica says to “revel in the absurdity,” to not take anything, including yourself, too seriously. “We’re playing dress up,” a sentiment we both shared about the culture, but is it really the world that makes us mean? Is “rotted” the standard? A cliche within the drag world ties back into reading each other, but that stereotype is not baseless, unique to queerness, or even inherently negative. “The best type of drag…has been based in reading each other.”
And it makes sense to carry around this energy almost like irritability, when “Queer people have had to use their tongue to fight back against their oppressors their entire life.” It’s ingrained in all of us to be challenging the systems and not to be complicit to them, even when those systems can appear to be entwined with our own spaces. Indica and I both emphasize the importance of humanity. She has her reads down to a science, disguising true compliments by presenting them as sandwiched between comments that are more cheeky. It’s become an expectation when speaking to Indica that she will respond snarkily, but this mask that her persona has formed is what makes her positive commentary all the more meaningful.
Drag, as an institution, exists within the levels of communication, but the authentic visualization enters through personality. Indica is a big personality, but that formation could not exist without one of Pittsburgh drag’s key descriptors we’ve already referenced, grit. Indica has participated in drag from places like New York City as well as Miami, but having functioned with the Haus of Haunt, and now to the popularization Haus of Kollins, she doesn’t compare the two on a personal left of those involved, but in the power in both of their alternativeness, grunginess, and irreverence. “Legendary status doesn’t happen overnight,” but the work put in means that it will always pay off, no matter what that timeline may look like. There is no way to control the world around us, but there are ways to indulge in its insanity. Indica has become a master of the party scene, and has created space for nothing besides the passion for the craft to be taken too seriously.
Ultimately, entertainment exists for the purpose of enjoyment, from the audience, to the creative process, to the stage, and to the actualization of the self, but before any of that can be truly satisfying, you must sit back, relax, accept yourself, and take a fucking hit.
Soaked in bleach, I called Indica on a Thursday night.
Admittedly, we might have been a bit unprepared; myself with sopping hair, and her, apologizing for the shuffling noises of her night time house cleaning. Though I admired that, for both of us, it was a natural state, and in an industry built on perception, we kept our cameras off.
Indica’s first impression of drag was, “a gross and seedy experience,” her still being in high school while attending Latrice Royale’s post prison benefit, but having faced the swing state of South Florida and then Donald Trump’s first term in her return to Pittsburgh, the disgusting qualities became what she loved the most. “I felt like I was actually able to see the world…through the lens of more grit and more trauma…” This state of grittiness, while we agreed is not to be glamorized, can still be the most genuine. Drag is a “subversive art form,” but it doesn’t make you invaluable, and to Indica, “...sometimes it makes you the smartest person in the room.” It allows you, and has allowed Indica herself, to navigate the world with more openness. There’s a humanity to be found in the American sense of terror, and while appearing unfortunate, breeds something beautiful in all of us.
We’re shaped by our experiences, not only as individuals, but in our careers, goals, and aspirations. You cannot talk about Indica without talking about the production juggernaut that is one of her recurring shows at P-Town Bar, Another Party (@anotherpartypittsburgh). This drag empire didn’t come out of nowhere, and like any other form of queer discovery, went through many phases and iterations. Indica refers to the past of Another Party as the “ugly step-child party.” The series began with Amanda Lepore, prioritizing its alternativeness to another large scale event, and blossomed into showcasing queens like Fantasia Royale Gaga, Morphine Love Dion, and a perfect send off for our hometown starlet, Lydia B. Kollins. “It was a ‘fuck you’ to the man…and kind of became the man…I’m still grappling with that.” Another Party shaped into a place that honors drag and expands its point of view from Pittsburgh to all over the country, and in the case of queens like Envy Peru, the world. “But…my perspective with my parties has never been to promote RuPaul’s Drag Race. Drag Race is doing that on their own.” With a frequently large cast size, Indica admits that the “Ru Girls” are the ticket-selling name to push the attending crowd into seeing something different.
The focus has always been to highlight more than just one facet of drag, booking local entertainers as well as individuals from other cities who do not owe themselves to the Drag Race franchise. Indica is not a representative FOR Pittsburgh drag, but she believes herself to be an “ambassador” TO the city. While she may not be attempting to glamorize the concept of trauma, she is glamorizing the city and the art that has made its home here within it. “What I try to do, is I try to interject big city thinking and…ideas into a city that might have the heart of a small town.”
Though in a small town, or otherwise, you can’t make everybody happy, a lesson necessary to learn in the entertainment industry. The question, or even the complaint, often lies within the concept of success. “How do you get into the door when you feel the door is closed?” Indica prioritizes the idea of growth. If everything is seemingly handed to you, it will never feel as gratifying as if you worked up to what you truly want. What use is a win if it was not earned? More so, what are the qualities, even outside of pageantry and/or television, that qualify someone as a“big” entertainer?
In a similar vein, other entertainers believe that there is a lack of opportunity, but what is the true meaning of opportunity in this context? “If you view P-Town and Blue Moon as the limit…you’re going to feel frustrated.” Indica’s call for action is for those that carry that kind of passion to channel that not into blame on her, or any other show promoter for that matter, but to make an effort in creating more opportunities. Make your own spaces if you do not believe in the spaces that are expected and accessible. Systemic change is only possible with community, and to individualize the need for change will never increase the rate in a way that truly matters. In today’s climate, “While we’re pointing our fingers at each other, they’re getting ready to point guns at us.”
What projects you forward doesn’t boil down to this concept of “niceness” that is often used when describing a healthy dynamic within the scene. Where does the sense of entitlement to your peers’ personal lives, or even more broadly their dedication to you as an individual, come from? That question may not be answerable beyond the misidentification of community, but the cure, so to speak, is to “Lead with respect, not trying to be friends with everyone.” Indica notes that in drag, much like in the theatre scene where her love for performance originated, “networking is everything.” Networking, though, rarely ever equates to friendship, and it's important to be not only respectful, but also professional. Are you on time? Is every opportunity equal to you? The standards for drag have transformed so much over time, as Indica recalls payment being $25 and a drink ticket, but the shift in the social aspects have also been incredibly drastic.
Indica accredits a large portion of this societal modification to the pandemic, but in the same breath, shares that “rapid change is something I don’t think you ever get used to.” Covid-19 limited drag to online spaces, and while some entertainers are able to flourish in this sphere, it ultimately left the culture at large to struggle when returning to physical communication. Indica was assistant to, arguably, one of the most controversially recognizable figures, Sharon Needles, and while this relationship dynamic bred a lot of uncertainty and upset, it was incredibly influential in her drag journey. A lot of her big ticket connections were formed from traveling alongside her, but what made those connections withstand the test of time, and even more specifically, the rage of cancel culture having surrounded Sharon in 2020, was entirely based in Indica’s personality.
Indica, as a drag character, fronts with an air of confidence, or as we frequently referenced in our call, “snarkiness.” However, she still has a sense of insecurity, and whether that stems from bookings or otherwise, we were able to acknowledge that there is always someone who will appear to be doing “better” than you are. Her message within all of this remains, and as she frequently shares with old photos, “It gets better.” The most striking example of rapid change within Indica’s career circles back around the controversy behind Sharon, noting the night before a document about her had been released, and the chaos that ensued afterwards. This chaos, though not only built off of the allegations towards her working partner, was interpersonal, and it caused Indica to feel as though the two were “trauma bonded” for a period of time. Despite both Indica and Sharon not remaining in contact with one another currently, they saw something in one another at the time.“We were there for each other…What I saw was someone who was deeply hurt and needed someone, and I needed someone.”
While the topic of Sharon Needles, is a beast in and of itself, the takeaway is not what is right or wrong, but how you are able to grow from it. There will always be people who take issue with either queen, just as much as they are able to take issue with anyone else in the public eye, but there also must be a form of empowerment in the ability to be shady and shaded. This type of commentary does not make the voice it's spoken from inherently evil. However, there’s a bit of a crossroad in all encompassing social politics and the idea of entertainment in its most simplistic form of being enjoyable. Indica says to “revel in the absurdity,” to not take anything, including yourself, too seriously. “We’re playing dress up,” a sentiment we both shared about the culture, but is it really the world that makes us mean? Is “rotted” the standard? A cliche within the drag world ties back into reading each other, but that stereotype is not baseless, unique to queerness, or even inherently negative. “The best type of drag…has been based in reading each other.”
And it makes sense to carry around this energy almost like irritability, when “Queer people have had to use their tongue to fight back against their oppressors their entire life.” It’s ingrained in all of us to be challenging the systems and not to be complicit to them, even when those systems can appear to be entwined with our own spaces. Indica and I both emphasize the importance of humanity. She has her reads down to a science, disguising true compliments by presenting them as sandwiched between comments that are more cheeky. It’s become an expectation when speaking to Indica that she will respond snarkily, but this mask that her persona has formed is what makes her positive commentary all the more meaningful.
Drag, as an institution, exists within the levels of communication, but the authentic visualization enters through personality. Indica is a big personality, but that formation could not exist without one of Pittsburgh drag’s key descriptors we’ve already referenced, grit. Indica has participated in drag from places like New York City as well as Miami, but having functioned with the Haus of Haunt, and now to the popularization Haus of Kollins, she doesn’t compare the two on a personal left of those involved, but in the power in both of their alternativeness, grunginess, and irreverence. “Legendary status doesn’t happen overnight,” but the work put in means that it will always pay off, no matter what that timeline may look like. There is no way to control the world around us, but there are ways to indulge in its insanity. Indica has become a master of the party scene, and has created space for nothing besides the passion for the craft to be taken too seriously.
Ultimately, entertainment exists for the purpose of enjoyment, from the audience, to the creative process, to the stage, and to the actualization of the self, but before any of that can be truly satisfying, you must sit back, relax, accept yourself, and take a fucking hit.
Soaked in bleach, I called Indica on a Thursday night.
Admittedly, we might have been a bit unprepared; myself with sopping hair, and her, apologizing for the shuffling noises of her night time house cleaning. Though I admired that, for both of us, it was a natural state, and in an industry built on perception, we kept our cameras off.
Indica’s first impression of drag was, “a gross and seedy experience,” her still being in high school while attending Latrice Royale’s post-prison benefit, but having faced the swing state of South Florida and then Donald Trump’s first term in her return to Pittsburgh, the disgusting qualities became what she loved the most. “I felt like I was actually able to see the world…through the lens of more grit and more trauma…” This state of grittiness, while we agreed is not to be glamorized, can still be the most genuine. Drag is a “subversive art form,” but it doesn’t make you invaluable, and to Indica, “...sometimes it makes you the smartest person in the room.” It allows you, and has allowed Indica herself, to navigate the world with more openness. There’s a humanity to be found in the American sense of terror, and while appearing unfortunate, breeds something beautiful in all of us.
We’re shaped by our experiences, not only as individuals, but in our careers, goals, and aspirations. You cannot talk about Indica without talking about the production juggernaut that is one of her recurring shows at P-Town Bar, Another Party (@anotherpartypittsburgh). This drag empire didn’t come out of nowhere, and like any other form of queer discovery, went through many phases and iterations. Indica refers to the past of Another Party as the “ugly step-child party.” The series began with Amanda Lepore, prioritizing its alternativeness to another large scale event, and blossomed into showcasing queens like Fantasia Royale Gaga, Morphine Love Dion, and a perfect send off for our hometown starlet, Lydia B. Kollins. “It was a ‘fuck you’ to the man…and kind of became the man…I’m still grappling with that.” Another Party shaped into a place that honors drag and expands its point of view from Pittsburgh to all over the country, and in the case of queens like Envy Peru, the world. “But…my perspective with my parties has never been to promote RuPaul’s Drag Race. Drag Race is doing that on their own.” With a frequently large cast size, Indica admits that the “Ru Girls” are the ticket-selling name to push the attending crowd into seeing something different.
The focus has always been to highlight more than just one facet of drag, booking local entertainers as well as individuals from other cities who do not owe themselves to the Drag Race franchise. Indica is not a representative FOR Pittsburgh drag, but she believes herself to be an “ambassador” TO the city. While she may not be attempting to glamorize the concept of trauma, she is glamorizing the city and the art that has made its home here within it. “What I try to do, is I try to interject big city thinking and…ideas into a city that might have the heart of a small town.”
Though in a small town, or otherwise, you can’t make everybody happy, a lesson necessary to learn in the entertainment industry. The question, or even the complaint, often lies within the concept of success. “How do you get into the door when you feel the door is closed?” Indica prioritizes the idea of growth. If everything is seemingly handed to you, it will never feel as gratifying as if you worked up to what you truly want. What use is a win if it was not earned? More so, what are the qualities, even outside of pageantry and/or television, that qualify someone as a“big” entertainer?
In a similar vein, other entertainers believe that there is a lack of opportunity, but what is the true meaning of opportunity in this context? “If you view P-Town and Blue Moon as the limit…you’re going to feel frustrated.” Indica’s call for action is for those that carry that kind of passion to channel that not into blame on her, or any other show promoter for that matter, but to make an effort in creating more opportunities. Make your own spaces if you do not believe in the spaces that are expected and accessible. Systemic change is only possible with community, and to individualize the need for change will never increase the rate in a way that truly matters. In today’s climate, “While we’re pointing our fingers at each other, they’re getting ready to point guns at us.”
What projects you forward doesn’t boil down to this concept of “niceness” that is often used when describing a healthy dynamic within the scene. Where does the sense of entitlement to your peers’ personal lives, or even more broadly their dedication to you as an individual, come from? That question may not be answerable beyond the misidentification of community, but the cure, so to speak, is to “Lead with respect, not trying to be friends with everyone.” Indica notes that in drag, much like in the theatre scene where her love for performance originated, “networking is everything.” Networking, though, rarely ever equates to friendship, and it's important to be not only respectful, but also professional. Are you on time? Is every opportunity equal to you? The standards for drag have transformed so much over time, as Indica recalls payment being $25 and a drink ticket, but the shift in the social aspects have also been incredibly drastic.
Indica accredits a large portion of this societal modification to the pandemic, but in the same breath, shares that “rapid change is something I don’t think you ever get used to.” Covid-19 limited drag to online spaces, and while some entertainers are able to flourish in this sphere, it ultimately left the culture at large to struggle when returning to physical communication. Indica was assistant to, arguably, one of the most controversially recognizable figures, Sharon Needles, and while this relationship dynamic bred a lot of uncertainty and upset, it was incredibly influential in her drag journey. A lot of her big ticket connections were formed from traveling alongside her, but what made those connections withstand the test of time, and even more specifically, the rage of cancel culture having surrounded Sharon in 2020, was entirely based in Indica’s personality.
Indica, as a drag character, fronts with an air of confidence, or as we frequently referenced in our call, “snarkiness.” However, she still has a sense of insecurity, and whether that stems from bookings or otherwise, we were able to acknowledge that there is always someone who will appear to be doing “better” than you are. Her message within all of this remains, and as she frequently shares with old photos, “It gets better.” The most striking example of rapid change within Indica’s career circles back around the controversy behind Sharon, noting the night before a document about her had been released, and the chaos that ensued afterwards. This chaos, though not only built off of the allegations towards her working partner, was interpersonal, and it caused Indica to feel as though the two were “trauma bonded” for a period of time. Despite both Indica and Sharon not remaining in contact with one another currently, they saw something in one another at the time.“We were there for each other…What I saw was someone who was deeply hurt and needed someone, and I needed someone.”
While the topic of Sharon Needles, is a beast in and of itself, the takeaway is not what is right or wrong, but how you are able to grow from it. There will always be people who take issue with either queen, just as much as they are able to take issue with anyone else in the public eye, but there also must be a form of empowerment in the ability to be shady and shaded. This type of commentary does not make the voice it's spoken from inherently evil. However, there’s a bit of a crossroad in all encompassing social politics and the idea of entertainment in its most simplistic form of being enjoyable. Indica says to “revel in the absurdity,” to not take anything, including yourself, too seriously. “We’re playing dress up,” a sentiment we both shared about the culture, but is it really the world that makes us mean? Is “rotted” the standard? A cliche within the drag world ties back into reading each other, but that stereotype is not baseless, unique to queerness, or even inherently negative. “The best type of drag…has been based in reading each other.”
And it makes sense to carry around this energy almost like irritability, when “Queer people have had to use their tongue to fight back against their oppressors their entire life.” It’s ingrained in all of us to be challenging the systems and not to be complicit to them, even when those systems can appear to be entwined with our own spaces. Indica and I both emphasize the importance of humanity. She has her reads down to a science, disguising true compliments by presenting them as sandwiched between comments that are more cheeky. It’s become an expectation when speaking to Indica that she will respond snarkily, but this mask that her persona has formed is what makes her positive commentary all the more meaningful.
Drag, as an institution, exists within the levels of communication, but the authentic visualization enters through personality. Indica is a big personality, but that formation could not exist without one of Pittsburgh drag’s key descriptors we’ve already referenced, grit. Indica has participated in drag from places like New York City as well as Miami, but having functioned with the Haus of Haunt, and now to the popularization Haus of Kollins, she doesn’t compare the two on a personal left of those involved, but in the power in both of their alternativeness, grunginess, and irreverence. “Legendary status doesn’t happen overnight,” but the work put in means that it will always pay off, no matter what that timeline may look like. There is no way to control the world around us, but there are ways to indulge in its insanity. Indica has become a master of the party scene, and has created space for nothing besides the passion for the craft to be taken too seriously.
Ultimately, entertainment exists for the purpose of enjoyment, from the audience, to the creative process, to the stage, and to the actualization of the self, but before any of that can be truly satisfying, you must sit back, relax, accept yourself, and take a fucking hit.
