Just about everyone with even a passing interest in fashion can relate to the feeling of putting on an outfit and having something like a Cinderella moment. The clothes we choose to wear have the ability to turn us into our interpretation of a princess, and while our equivalent of the fairy godmother’s magic wand might be a make-up brush, and our horse-drawn carriage a sweaty spot crammed onto the Victoria Line, the feeling dressing up evokes is just as special: that moment you look at yourself in the mirror before heading out and think “I have never felt more like me”.

There are few who embody this unique transformation and its therapeutic power more than the drag queens, club kids, and go-go dancers that make up the world’s queer community, To kids in London and beyond, Saturday night’s slaggy little outfit and packed dance floor serve not just as a place to let loose, but as a place of refuge: somewhere to let their metaphorical corporate high-pony down after a long week crawling through the nine-to-five slog. 

But what about those, like the performers who sashay and dance through the club, or get up on stage and sing their hearts out, whose job it is to dress up? Is dressing down as important as getting dolled up for work? Here, Dazed speaks to five queer nightlife workers about the difference between their ‘day’ and ‘night’ looks, gender expression as a queer look-turner, party-starter, or club performer, and what style means to them as individuals who use their looks as professional currency. 

TAALI AKOSOA KWATEN

Dancer, speaker, choreographer, host, and events producer Taali is a “proud, slaggy, queer, gender-fluid, hyper femme fairy.” Their nightlife and daily looks tend to be more and less exaggerated versions of one another, as all things “camp, flamboyant, extra, bougie and slightly ridiculous,” are what makes them feel the most like themselves. 

The outfits they wear both on and off stage don’t shy away from being “extra-ness and sparkles” – basically, everything that would be listed under a revised dictionary definition of cunty. Kwaten says that one of their favourite things about their job is that they have a platform, both on stage and through social media, to inspire other people that look like them to wear what they want, when they want. Namely, “Black, curvy, queers”. They aim to demonstrate that it is possible to ignore the pressures of the Euro-centric, body-shaming world of Instagram beauty that we live in and truly wear what you feel best in. 

“It took a long time [for me] to have the confidence to wear exactly what I want and I’m forever grateful to my queer community and club scene for being the place that helps my confidence and style continuously grow,” Kwaten says, adding that their colleagues in the queer club scene are continuous sources of inspiration in their style and confidence journey.

DANNI SPOONER

Model, gogo-dancer, and creative director Danni, describes the juxtaposition of their daily outfits and the style of their “nightlife creature” as representing different elements of their personality. Their club attire usually features strings, dark colours, punky gelled hairstyles and wearing as little clothing as possible. In everyday life, their outfits are more covered up and incorporate more whimsical and colourful elements. 

Danni describes this contrast as existing as an “androgynous femme creature” by night, and a “nerdy librarian guy” by day, and this fluidity in style speaks to their journey of being non-binary.  For Danni, one of the best parts of being involved in the queer nightlife scene is witnessing “how we all see each-others authenticity and beauty” – sentiment all interviewees mentioned in some way.  

This is a refreshing take on what it means to look good - looking beautiful should be a sum of feeling authentic and being appreciated for your authenticity. Danni describes their dressing up process as pivoting around the creation of characters. Whether during the day or at the club, they say that “clothes are really joyful to me, a lot of my choices with clothes are influenced by cartoons, being silly, coming up with character concepts, colours or even furniture.”

THE DOLL NAMED DAN

Danielle describes herself as ‘London’s premiere drag terrorist.’ She is a drag performer who characterises her on stage persona as ‘brash, loud, rude, smarmy, cynical and over it”. While Danielle in real life is more intellectual, philosophical, and reserved. 

In terms of how she dresses, both in and out of drag, the difference between Danielle and ‘The Doll Named Dan’ is clear. She describes her drag persona as embodying a character like “Lily Savage or Nan from Catherine Tate on crack.” Featuring tight, bright clothing and colourful, eccentric make-up that literally draws outside the lines. In her daily life, her clothing tends to be “practical and comfy to write in.”

Danielle describes her drag aesthetic as “a hyperbole of the aspects of femininity that make me uncomfortable.” “I aim to take all aspects of transness that are perhaps not socially acceptable and blow them up,” she explains. Through this, Danielle uses self-fashioning as a political and social commentary, by translating things that society tells us are wrong and displaying them in a way that feels (and looks) so right. 

“Dressing up makes me feel incredible. It makes me feel like I can do anything and everything,” Danielle says. While her drag persona is linked to her ‘real life’ personality it is ultimately separate. However, this feeling of empowerment carries into daily life. She compares the confidence gained from drag as being ‘like muscle memory’ when she is navigating the world as herself.

CAIN THE CLOWN

Cain describes his introduction to London nightlife as a “typical queer country bumpkin moves to the big city story.” His nightlife character of ‘The Clown’ was a response to experiences of substance abuse and represents how he readjusted his place on the scene after going sober, by choosing to “put myself and my art front and centre.” ‘The Clown’ – Cain’s nightlife persona – is characterised by pointy hats, bright colours, exaggerated ruffs, a blank white base, painted on expressions, and black contact lenses. 

Cain makes a lot of his own outfits, demonstrating how ‘The Clown’ represents his artistic freedom. He describes this as “a love letter to my sobriety and place in nightlife”. The blank canvas of ‘The Clown’ represents the painting on of faces of emotion that resonate with the emotional turmoil he felt when he was dependent on substances. He explains how ‘The Clown’ is in some ways self-protective: “At times when a certain setting can be jarring, having this layer of a ‘mask’ contributes towards my ‘armour’ for the night,” he says.  

Rather than seeing ‘The Clown’ as a persona, Cain describes it as “an exaggerated extension of my personality spun through a cartoony, animated, circus lens.” An avenue that allows him to dig deeper into parts of himself that he feels that cannot be expressed through verbal means. Queer nightlife is a safe space where creativity and self-expression, as well as trauma, can be explored. Especially when, in day-to-day life, these things are expected to be suppressed. 

LILA BANKS

Lila calls herself “London’s little twinkcess” – she wears highly feminised outfits, sky-high pleasers and bright, brows-back, full-drag beats. When describing how she feels in and out of drag, Lila says that people often find it hard to wrap their heads around the idea that she feels like the most genuine version of herself when she is dressed up as the ‘character’ of Lila.

She says that this character is based on a version of herself without insecurities. Someone who is not constrained by social pressures of being ‘too much’, wearing clothes that are too revealing or having too much make-up on. Through drag and dressing up, Lila explains that she has been able to discover things about her out-of-drag identity – such as exploring her gender as being on the trans spectrum. 

Lila says that she loves how people appreciate her art when she is in drag, as she usually creates elements of her outfits herself. Despite her drag character being stereotypically hyper-feminine, her daytime attire tends to lean more on the androgynous side. This discovery of new parts of her identity has been facilitated by dressing up as a hyper-feminine projection of her inner self – a true testament to the power of style.