More than a moment: Drag kings and things are here to stay
- Jul 1, 2025
- 4 min read

Drag in so-called Vancouver has been around for decades and seen many iterations and evolutions over the years. But one thing that’s stayed pretty consistent is the lack of drag king and drag thing representation. What is a drag king or thing, and why are we not seeing them on local stages or in mainstream drag media? These are some of the questions SKIM is asking in Long Live Kings, a new webseries created by and for kings, things, and the people who love them.
SKIM is a drag king, artist, and organizer. He created KINGSIZED, an all-king-andthing drag show that has quickly become one of the most exciting and community-rooted shows in the city. He also co-founded Long Live Kings, a YouTube series and collective that documents king culture and gives space to the stories we don’t hear nearly enough. I caught up with SKIM recently, but also, I’ve been in the audience. I’ve cheered from the crowd, talked about kings on camera, and shown up again and again because these shows feel different. They matter.
As a lesbian who is attracted to masculinity and gender fuckery, I find king and thing drag to be really hot. But it’s more than that. These performances are also smart, weird, experimental, political, playful, and fun. And the crowd is different too. There’s more diversity. More trans folks. More queer people of colour. More people who are there to really see each other. Less bachelorette parties. It feels like something worth protecting.

When I asked SKIM why he started KINGSIZED, he was clear: “I wanted to create KINGSIZED to make a sustainable show for BIPOC drag kings to feel safe, supported and celebrated.” When he first started performing in Vancouver, there weren’t many other POC kings. “King Fisher was one of the few drag kings actively performing as a king, and when he passed away, it made me realize a lot of inequality within the drag world.” He saw how drag spaces often reinforced misogyny and transphobia. SKIM pointed out how king drag, especially when performed by BIPOC artists, was seen as less valuable or less entertaining. KINGSIZED is his response. It’s not just a show. It’s a space where something else can happen.
Each KINGSIZED show includes at least one duet or group number. That’s not by accident. “In Vancouver, king troupes were huge in the past,” SKIM told me. “I wanted to give homage to that and also bring drag kings together and challenge them to work together.” It’s a way of building community on the stage, not just behind the scenes. And it works. These performances are some of the most collaborative and creative drag numbers I’ve seen. There’s also usually what SKIM calls a “very silly fundraiser” at the end of the night. The vibe is loose and joyful, and the energy in the room is unmatched. It’s obvious everyone knows they’re witnessing something special.

But outside of those spaces, kings still don’t get the recognition they deserve. “Drag kings are often underrepresented because of misogyny and capitalism,” SKIM said. “The bodies that are often doing king drag are often seen as lesser than and not as interesting to watch perform.” Meanwhile, femininity, especially when performed in ways that can be marketed, has been packaged for the mainstream. “Femininity is understood as a product and something that can be consumed, especially through the popularity of RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Kings push back against that. They take masculinity, exaggerate it, twist it, break it apart. They show that masculinity is just as performative as femininity, and just as worthy of being played with.
That’s a huge part of what Long Live Kings is about. The webseries started as a one-off post SKIM made to advocate for drag kings. “But now it’s become a collective with Jei So, Percy Pegg, and Velvet Ryder, and we produce KINGSIZED together and now have the YouTube channel Long Live Kings.” It’s about documenting the art form, but also about building culture. “I wanted to create more space and understanding for my drag, but I wanted to push our community’s culture into one that supports and celebrates drag kings.”

I was interviewed for Long Live Kings and asked to share my own thoughts on drag, masculinity, and the current state of the scene. It was honestly refreshing to be asked. To be part of something that reflects the kind of drag I really care about. The kind that reflects me and the people I love. The kind that’s not trying to go viral or landing a Netflix deal, but is rooted in community and intersectionality.
I asked SKIM what he wishes people understood about king drag. He replied with: “I wish more people knew what a drag king was. I think if I never had to hear the question ‘What’s a drag king?’ again I would be happy.” And fair enough. We’re overdue for a cultural shift. Not just in who gets booked, but in how we talk about gender, drag, and performance in the first place.

“Drag has given so many trans people a safe space — including myself — to explore what makes us feel good in our bodies,” SKIM said. And that’s something I’ve felt too. Watching king and thing performers challenge gender, play with masculinity, and make space for complexity has changed how I understand drag. It’s expanded what feels possible.
What SKIM is doing isn’t just important. It’s already changing the scene. Whether it’s on stage at KINGSIZED or in a longform conversation on Long Live Kings, he’s making space for artists who’ve been left out of the spotlight for too long. And for those of us in the crowd, it’s powerful to see that space grow.
Follow SKIM at @skimisking on Instagram or at @romikim. art and follow along with the Long Live Kings webseries at @Longlivekingsized.

Olivia Scholes (she/her)
