A nice story that shows a different side of Oakland.
Transvestites charm macho Fruitvale bar
Glamorous performers dazzle crowds with their weekly show
By Angela Hill, STAFF WRITER - OAKLAND TRIBUNE
OAKLAND — Danny Hernandez came out of the closet-sized dressing room in a gown that was sequined enough for a woman but made for a man. A little thicker in the shoulders. A little straighter in the hips.
Techno-mariachi music throbbed a deep pulse -- not the kind of loud that hurts your ears, but the kind of loud that hurts your internal organs. A rainbow of colored spotlights twirled. A smoke machine puffed. The crowd in the tiny bar went wild, and the Mexican transvestite show was on. "The Queens of the Night" -- a troupe of four transvestites and one transsexual — perform at La Frontera nightclub in Oakland every Tuesday night. Kind of an odd sight to behold in this straight bar in the middle of the Fruitvale, and often an uneasy fit with macho Mexican traditions.
But there's more to the modern Mexican culture than meets the mainstream eye. More than mariachis and taco trucks, baby.
Transvestite shows are a big subculture, in Mexico and here. There were plenty of transvestites, transsexuals and trans-everything else of all ethnicities performing in Sunday's Gay Pride Parade in San Francisco, which drew hundreds of thousands of spectators.
But it's a different scene in Oakland, and especially in the Fruitvale.
Club owner Martin Vega welcomes the "Queens of the Night," and has enjoyed the business their show draws to his place on International Boulevard at Fruitvale Avenue. "We're in the era that we need to be open-minded," he said in Spanish. "I respect them. As long as they respect me, there's no problem."
One customer said this is one of the few places in the Fruitvale to see such a show. "I'm from Texas and have family from Mexico, and you know the machismo in any other Mexican bar. Gays, transvestites -- they can't go in there," he said.
"This is a straight place," said Queens leader Tony Alvarado -- stage name Jackie -- shouting over the music. "People think we, as transvestite performers, just work in the gay places. And on Mondays, we do work in a San Francisco gay club, which is pretty much all gay boys and drag queens. Here, it's what I would call gay-friendly. It's a straight bar, but they treat you nice here.
"You can see how they respond to our show," he said. "We were late, and they were waiting for us."
Indeed, the show was supposed to start at 11:30 p.m., but three of the Queens, all dressed up in false eyelashes and other enhanced extremities, had a flat tire and no spare on the late-night drive up Interstate 880 from San Jose. They'd been stressing out on the side of the freeway, pantyhose all in a bunch, when a prince of a Good Samaritan stopped and gave them -- gave them -- a spare.
Never underestimate the power of false eyelashes and other enhanced extremities.
They made it, but an hour late. The packed audience had waited patiently and applauded and cheered when they came running in the door, feather boas flying. They dragged luggage carts of costumes behind them, weaving through the bar -- a small place and a little dingy, but spiffed up with disco balls, glittery drapes and mirrored walls for a stage.
The crowd is mostly Mexican men, mostly blue-collar, a couple of cowboy hats. But couples too. Some young. Most middle age. Everybody seemed to know everybody else. Regulars.
Toward the back of the bar, three Mexican guys in T-shirts were shooting pool with a skinny guy in a spiffy black suit, black turtle neck and silver-buckled belt. He had his own cue. They were the only ones not watching the show, oblivious even when they all had to duck to miss a feathered headdress winging its way to the stage.
With the late arrival it was a frenzy of preparation backstage, or in this case, back in the 6-foot square alcove next to the men's room and the teetering stacks of Corona boxes. An old comforter has been strung up over the alcove, now dotted with numerous Maybelline mouth marks where many a transvestite has blotted his lipstick.
The occasional thick ankle in red fishnets and size-12 high heels poked out from behind. The comforter bulged and undulated, like there was an octopus back there wrestling with another octopus.
Actually, they were mermaids.
And suddenly, out from behind the comforter, flanked by two mermaids with silver foam fins strapped to their ankles, a beautiful goddess emerged. A vision in white beads and feathers.
It was Hernandez.
He tugged at the skirt, a little tight at his hips, adjusting for his stocky build. The white Vegas-style ostrich-feather headdress, 5-feet high and wide -- graceful and awkward all at once -- waved and threatened to swoon. He gave the harness a quick shift on his strong shoulders, forcing the plumes to submit.
A DJ standing at a mixer in the corner near the bar cranked the volume on as high as it would go. Alvarado, the show's emcee and Hernandez's partner -- they're a gay couple who has been together for 15 years -- took the microphone and announced "The Queens of the Night."
Hernandez in the spotlight, lip-synched a song of the mermaids, who accordingly spun and bumped as mermaids surely will do. They all pranced back to the dressing room with money tucked in their bras, passing swiftly by the next act.
By day, it's all a different story. Hernandez works in a coffee shop, and Alvarado is a catering manager. "I work in the daytime as a male," Alvarado shouted as the next act came on, his teardrop earrings sparkling as he heaved his long wig back over his shoulder, Cher-style.
So lovely, it was difficult to imagine him as a man, but his bolder features gave him away. "I just dress up like this as a job at night," he said. "I don't do it 24-7."
Most of these guys have been in the biz a long time.
They just love the scene. Love the dazzle of the lights and the costumes. Alvarado started performing about five years ago, after people kept telling him he looked like Mexican diva Veronica Castro. Hernandez, who started dancing at 17, has been doing transvestite shows for about 10 years. Now he and Alvarado produce and direct the show.
"We all have crowns," Alvarado said. "Danny was three-time winner for a look-alike Selena contest. My first time in a gay place, I went in a contest as a male and I won the show. The other Jackie, our newest member and a transsexual, has won several gay contests -- Miss Gay Mexico, Miss Gay Universe.
"So we've all been queens at some point, and we we're going to be working at night, so I thought the name made sense."
The next act was a man with the stage name of "Mitzi Li." His eyes made up with heavy black eyeliner and copper lids. False eyelashes about three feet long. Sparkling earrings and an off-the-shoulder flowing top. He has been performing as a transvestite for about 20 years.
Next up was the "other Jackie," strutting on stage in tall leather boots and a fishnet top with little black stars in just the right places. "She's had implants," Alvarado whispered loudly.
"Alejandra" was next, moving toward the stage, bumping the guy in the black suit playing pool and causing him to miss a shot. Alejandra was dressed in a deep blue gown and cascading black wig. His career began in theater and movies in Mexico, he said, such as "Bellas De Noche" and "Cuando Tejen Las Aranas," and has been doing transvestite shows for about 20 years. During the day, he's a dance teacher.
Each one also works separately with other groups around the Bay Area.
For the finale, Hernandez swaggered out in a mariachi costume -- a guy, being a girl, being a guy. Really confusing.
As everyone knows, clothes make the transvestite. So multiple costume changes occur with lavish handmade gowns and headdresses.
"People say, 'Oh, you look so gorgeous,'" Alvarado said. "We spend a lot of time and money to get this way. New eyelashes every week. Fishnets. This dress was hand-made, all beaded by hand. Danny made it. If had to go buy it, it would probably be about $3,000.
"So the transvestite show is a lot of work, but when people come to see us -- when they even wait for us to get here like they did tonight -- it makes you feel good," he said. "It's worth it."
Transvestites charm macho Fruitvale bar
Glamorous performers dazzle crowds with their weekly show
By Angela Hill, STAFF WRITER - OAKLAND TRIBUNE
OAKLAND — Danny Hernandez came out of the closet-sized dressing room in a gown that was sequined enough for a woman but made for a man. A little thicker in the shoulders. A little straighter in the hips.
Techno-mariachi music throbbed a deep pulse -- not the kind of loud that hurts your ears, but the kind of loud that hurts your internal organs. A rainbow of colored spotlights twirled. A smoke machine puffed. The crowd in the tiny bar went wild, and the Mexican transvestite show was on. "The Queens of the Night" -- a troupe of four transvestites and one transsexual — perform at La Frontera nightclub in Oakland every Tuesday night. Kind of an odd sight to behold in this straight bar in the middle of the Fruitvale, and often an uneasy fit with macho Mexican traditions.
But there's more to the modern Mexican culture than meets the mainstream eye. More than mariachis and taco trucks, baby.
Transvestite shows are a big subculture, in Mexico and here. There were plenty of transvestites, transsexuals and trans-everything else of all ethnicities performing in Sunday's Gay Pride Parade in San Francisco, which drew hundreds of thousands of spectators.
But it's a different scene in Oakland, and especially in the Fruitvale.
Club owner Martin Vega welcomes the "Queens of the Night," and has enjoyed the business their show draws to his place on International Boulevard at Fruitvale Avenue. "We're in the era that we need to be open-minded," he said in Spanish. "I respect them. As long as they respect me, there's no problem."
One customer said this is one of the few places in the Fruitvale to see such a show. "I'm from Texas and have family from Mexico, and you know the machismo in any other Mexican bar. Gays, transvestites -- they can't go in there," he said.
"This is a straight place," said Queens leader Tony Alvarado -- stage name Jackie -- shouting over the music. "People think we, as transvestite performers, just work in the gay places. And on Mondays, we do work in a San Francisco gay club, which is pretty much all gay boys and drag queens. Here, it's what I would call gay-friendly. It's a straight bar, but they treat you nice here.
"You can see how they respond to our show," he said. "We were late, and they were waiting for us."
Indeed, the show was supposed to start at 11:30 p.m., but three of the Queens, all dressed up in false eyelashes and other enhanced extremities, had a flat tire and no spare on the late-night drive up Interstate 880 from San Jose. They'd been stressing out on the side of the freeway, pantyhose all in a bunch, when a prince of a Good Samaritan stopped and gave them -- gave them -- a spare.
Never underestimate the power of false eyelashes and other enhanced extremities.
They made it, but an hour late. The packed audience had waited patiently and applauded and cheered when they came running in the door, feather boas flying. They dragged luggage carts of costumes behind them, weaving through the bar -- a small place and a little dingy, but spiffed up with disco balls, glittery drapes and mirrored walls for a stage.
The crowd is mostly Mexican men, mostly blue-collar, a couple of cowboy hats. But couples too. Some young. Most middle age. Everybody seemed to know everybody else. Regulars.
Toward the back of the bar, three Mexican guys in T-shirts were shooting pool with a skinny guy in a spiffy black suit, black turtle neck and silver-buckled belt. He had his own cue. They were the only ones not watching the show, oblivious even when they all had to duck to miss a feathered headdress winging its way to the stage.
With the late arrival it was a frenzy of preparation backstage, or in this case, back in the 6-foot square alcove next to the men's room and the teetering stacks of Corona boxes. An old comforter has been strung up over the alcove, now dotted with numerous Maybelline mouth marks where many a transvestite has blotted his lipstick.
The occasional thick ankle in red fishnets and size-12 high heels poked out from behind. The comforter bulged and undulated, like there was an octopus back there wrestling with another octopus.
Actually, they were mermaids.
And suddenly, out from behind the comforter, flanked by two mermaids with silver foam fins strapped to their ankles, a beautiful goddess emerged. A vision in white beads and feathers.
It was Hernandez.
He tugged at the skirt, a little tight at his hips, adjusting for his stocky build. The white Vegas-style ostrich-feather headdress, 5-feet high and wide -- graceful and awkward all at once -- waved and threatened to swoon. He gave the harness a quick shift on his strong shoulders, forcing the plumes to submit.
A DJ standing at a mixer in the corner near the bar cranked the volume on as high as it would go. Alvarado, the show's emcee and Hernandez's partner -- they're a gay couple who has been together for 15 years -- took the microphone and announced "The Queens of the Night."
Hernandez in the spotlight, lip-synched a song of the mermaids, who accordingly spun and bumped as mermaids surely will do. They all pranced back to the dressing room with money tucked in their bras, passing swiftly by the next act.
By day, it's all a different story. Hernandez works in a coffee shop, and Alvarado is a catering manager. "I work in the daytime as a male," Alvarado shouted as the next act came on, his teardrop earrings sparkling as he heaved his long wig back over his shoulder, Cher-style.
So lovely, it was difficult to imagine him as a man, but his bolder features gave him away. "I just dress up like this as a job at night," he said. "I don't do it 24-7."
Most of these guys have been in the biz a long time.
They just love the scene. Love the dazzle of the lights and the costumes. Alvarado started performing about five years ago, after people kept telling him he looked like Mexican diva Veronica Castro. Hernandez, who started dancing at 17, has been doing transvestite shows for about 10 years. Now he and Alvarado produce and direct the show.
"We all have crowns," Alvarado said. "Danny was three-time winner for a look-alike Selena contest. My first time in a gay place, I went in a contest as a male and I won the show. The other Jackie, our newest member and a transsexual, has won several gay contests -- Miss Gay Mexico, Miss Gay Universe.
"So we've all been queens at some point, and we we're going to be working at night, so I thought the name made sense."
The next act was a man with the stage name of "Mitzi Li." His eyes made up with heavy black eyeliner and copper lids. False eyelashes about three feet long. Sparkling earrings and an off-the-shoulder flowing top. He has been performing as a transvestite for about 20 years.
Next up was the "other Jackie," strutting on stage in tall leather boots and a fishnet top with little black stars in just the right places. "She's had implants," Alvarado whispered loudly.
"Alejandra" was next, moving toward the stage, bumping the guy in the black suit playing pool and causing him to miss a shot. Alejandra was dressed in a deep blue gown and cascading black wig. His career began in theater and movies in Mexico, he said, such as "Bellas De Noche" and "Cuando Tejen Las Aranas," and has been doing transvestite shows for about 20 years. During the day, he's a dance teacher.
Each one also works separately with other groups around the Bay Area.
For the finale, Hernandez swaggered out in a mariachi costume -- a guy, being a girl, being a guy. Really confusing.
As everyone knows, clothes make the transvestite. So multiple costume changes occur with lavish handmade gowns and headdresses.
"People say, 'Oh, you look so gorgeous,'" Alvarado said. "We spend a lot of time and money to get this way. New eyelashes every week. Fishnets. This dress was hand-made, all beaded by hand. Danny made it. If had to go buy it, it would probably be about $3,000.
"So the transvestite show is a lot of work, but when people come to see us -- when they even wait for us to get here like they did tonight -- it makes you feel good," he said. "It's worth it."
Comments