Alternative Miss World Afterparty

October 23, 2014

‘Do you own anything neon?’
‘No.’
‘Can you dance?’
‘No.’
‘Can you create a fabulous neon costume and perform a dance to a song from Sesame Street on stage on Saturday?’
This was Thursday.
‘I’ll give it a go.’
When you’re asked to perform at the Alternative Miss World afterparty, you don’t say no.

By Patrick Cash. Photos by Rebecca Zephyr Thomas.

And of course I did what any pseudo-performer with a tight deadline, no budget and very little shame would do: went to Primark. Having already ravished the Tottenham Court Road store several times for my drag creation Trashbag Trish, I’d long ago left my mortification at the door, and I dived claws-first into the women’s lingerie department. A few vicious shopping elbows and a mere five pounds later, I was proudly walking out with some skintight, neon yellow Halloween-themed monster leggings.

Top half was more difficult until the sudden realisation that I was a non-self-respecting gay boy and what do non-self-respecting gay boys do in tight situations (other than enjoy the rarity and thrust)? Wear nothing of course, but neon body paint. Because everybody wants to get something out of their gym membership other than a constant reminder of the futility of existence.

From r-l: Patrick Cash, Victoria Sin, Lewis Burton, Mikey Woodbridge, Jenkin van Zyl (Photobomb: Miss Behave)

Fast-forward to Saturday night and myself, Lewis Burton, Victoria Sin, Mikey Woodbridge and Jenkin van Zyl were staggering enthusiastically but gracelessly around a stage in the cavernous basement underneath the Globe Theatre, as the Alternative Miss World contest rumbled above.

‘Dance! Dance, monkeys, dance!’ commanded our curator Lyall Hakaraia of Vogue Fabrics, as he swigged on his Pink Sick – a concoction created by Glenn’s vodka and an intriguing juice that possibly once brushed shoulders with a cranberry way back at Woodstock ’72.

After a good two minutes of ruthless choreography our dance troupe the ‘Neon Numbers’ was born, and we were ready to throw open the doors and invite all down to our marvellous lair of primetime post-show entertainment.

Alternative Miss World, for anyone who doesn’t know, is all about colour, dresses and more camp than the glittering discoball urinals in George Michael’s ‘Outside’ video. A good portion of the crowd stem from the older (some say nicer) gay world, where Beyond is simply a concept further away than the immediate. They were genteel, well-spoken and all looked utterly fabulous, like the cast of Downton Abbey dripped in acid and thrown to the flamingos enclosure.

But it also winds in the young to its multi-coloured spinning wheel, regally spun by the ever-eminent Andrew Logan; all those with a penchant for sartorial freedom, the outrageousness of individuality and who are unafraid of the glorious absurd. Jacqui Potato was spotted cutting a rug with the likes of Harry Clayton-Wright whilst Bishi watched, and Baby Lame downed her drink when she wasn’t looking.

During the hours lurching unsteadily up to the Neon Numbers’ star performance we were given the vague instruction to ‘entertain’. Which we mostly interpreted as to drink a lot backstage and excitedly throng through the extravagant party-goers, saying hello to all, doling out our lipsticked smiles for free, and trying not to spray Pink Sick-tinged spittle in too many people’s faces.

I found myself accidentally bigging up our dance to most people – ‘it’s going to be like The Nutcracker meets the Beyoncé World Tour,’ I caught myself enthusing until our moment of truth finally climaxed out of its illusory condom to a splattered reality.

Miss Behave and Harriet were hosting the night, and after Peaches Christ gave it all she got, before Lady Bear and her bear-masked dancers industrially rocked, myself and my four fabulous partners in crime ascended the stage.

‘1, 2, 3, 4, 5…’ began the Sesame Street characters (luckily there were no other lyrics other than these, and, bizarrely, the same numbers repeated in Spanish)

We swayed; we side-stepped; we waved and we jived.

And the crowd went wild. We bowed graciously before opening up the stage to the assembled and beginning a mass dance-in.

Because that’s what Alternative Miss World, and her proudly slutty afterparty, is all about. It’s not a militaristically constructed campaign. It’s a celebration of the peacocked, the excessive, and it’s a beautifully flamboyant antithesis to that heinous ‘Dress Normal’ Gap advert, but also it’s about sharing, getting involved, daring and joining in the party. We’re all in this together sister, brother, and whatever sex or dress you may choose.