At a gay bar on the fringes of Cubao’s quaint middle-income neighborhoods, 62-year-old Divine Amparo — clad in a bright blue tassel dress, hoop earrings and a platinum blonde pixie wig — descends gracefully from the balcony.

The senior drag queen weaves her unhurried movements into the slow-paced intro of her song. Her strawberry lips move with the vocals: “If you could read my mind, love / What a tale my thoughts could tell.” She careens down the wooden stairs in ankle-length boots. A production assistant trails in front of her, watching her steps.

This event on a Friday night in April, headlined by “Drag Race Philippines” season one winner Precious Paula Nicole, is a fundraiser for Manila’s famous Golden Gays. Established in 2002 by activist and columnist Justo Justo as The Home for the Golden Gays, they belong to a non-profit organization that sought to provide a “safe space and a permanent shelter” to elderly LGBTQIA+ people.

But in an unfortunate twist of fate, the lolas were displaced only a decade later, left to fend for themselves without a home. With 17 members, they re-established themselves as The Home for Indigent Gay Men, Inc. in 2021, but they still haven’t landed a permanent shelter. The concert kicks off a series of fundraisers that seeks to end that problem.
Lola Amparo is their first member to perform solo. The night is young.
Now onstage, she stands out against the glitter crushed velvet curtain — her Jane Fonda-esque body glowing under the neon lights. As she glides, she maintains eye contact with her audience, holding them captive under her gaze, etching this moment in their memory, where the stage belongs to her.

“I don’t know where we went wrong / But the feeling’s gone / And I just can’t get it back,” Liza Minelli roars and implores in the background. “I wanna have you here!”

‘ ’63’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:6d6ef9fe-aacd-41a2-a3db-b742240fac8d’ ‘imageCaption’: ‘Lola Amparo, a former junior Paper Doll, rehearses her solo

As Liza Minelli proceeds to go begging for a man, Lola Amparo transforms. She ceases to be the lady requiring assistance. She shimmies, gyrates, shakes, and trembles. As the notes skitter, her long, toned legs chassé left and right. Her arms swing in the air. In one fell swoop, she lifts her skirt, showing off tight high-waisted panties. She is tucked for the gods. The crowd goes wild. Her eyes twinkle. She indulges in the attention. She lusts for this applause. Her verve reverberates. She permeates the room with passion, energy, life. She owns the song. She owns the stage. For three full minutes, she owns our souls.

At this moment, she transcends from being a Liza Minelli impersonator. She becomes Liza Minellli.

The bitch-snapping audience differs from the well-heeled, Makati clubgoers of Cabaret Royale where she once performed, but they match her energy. Decades since Lola Amparo took the stage as a Paper Dolls “trainee” in the late 1970s, the art of drag has evolved into a global, multi-million dollar industry, and she is back and ready for her encore.

The economics of “Drag Race”

That evening, Precious and her fellow “Drag Race Philippines” season one contestants — Eva Le Queen, Turing and Brigiding — also performed live pro bono, while in the audience, an out-of-drag Corazon made the rounds to collect tips. Together, they helped raise ₱130,000 net for that evening alone, using their newfound “mainstream” popularity as currency.

“I don’t think drag itself has become mainstream,” RuPaul Charles once said in an interview. “The superficial part of it has, but the deeper message, which is that we are all extensions of the power that created the universe, is the part that’s not there yet.”

In a BBC article, World of Wonder co-founder Randy Barbato — a producer of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” — was quoted as saying “[RuPaul’s Drag Race] is the only real TV franchise where in some ways everyone is a winner, because all these girls go out and they may tour around the globe. Some of them make between $5,000 and $10,000 per appearance. Many of these girls are making six figures a year — [they were] on a fraction of that before.”

‘ ’64’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:ff202c28-fd63-4c5f-9fb7-0f9fc16de75d’ ‘imageCaption’: ‘Precious Paula Nicole, “Drag Race Philippines” Season 1 winner,

Backstage, Precious explained how the local franchise changed the economics of drag performance in the Philippines. “Mas marami ‘yung naka-discover na meron tayong sariling drag scene,” she said. “Nagkaroon kami ng additional shows, may viewing parties na rin kami, tapos now, we produce our own shows na mas malaki na iyong [talent fee] kasi now, we can charge higher.” The average rate for appearances, she said, has tripled, if not quadrupled, and it’s only been one season. Relative to its counterparts in the US, UK and Canada, the local drag scene is still in its infancy (or in their verbiage, “baby drag” era).

But their showbiz trajectory differs from the lolas’. After all, while the Golden Gays paved the way for the new queens, their stars shone at a different time — ahead of the “technological, political and cultural change” that ignited the drag phenomenon across the world.

Fame is ephemeral, but apart from aging (or ageism), senior queens like Lola Amparo have also had to hurdle other challenges like deportation from Japan where she worked as an undocumented performer for a decade during her peak. On her return in the 2000s, new queens had already taken her place and the Cabaret Royale had gone. To round up the series of misfortunes, she landed when the local economy was barely recovering from the 1998 economic downturn from the Asian crisis, and headed towards the 2008 global financial crisis.

Other Golden Gays members have also had a similar, tragic fate. Some took to peddling cigarettes during the day to make ends meet. Added to that was the burden of having no permanent address.

But Precious chooses not to dwell. “Wala na rin tayong magagawa — it’ s done,” she said. “What I can do now is to solve the problem.”

A legacy for the lolas

Having previously mounted or hosted charity events for the lolas, Precious partnered with seasoned development consultant (and drag fan) Tiffany Mason, who brings experience from working with the World Bank and UNICEF.

“I don’t do one-time, big-time events. I don’t do birthday parties for a cause,” she said at the sidelines of the kick-off event. “It has to be sustainable and empowering. The moment that you leave them, you know that when you die, it’s still going to continue. Legacy ang gusto kong iwan.”

Building on Precious’s mission, Mason and a small team of volunteers, along with entrepreneurship-centered partners such as Junior Chamber International (JCI) Makati, are bringing their experience and resources to put together the often-uncoordinated efforts of different donors into a holistic, sustainable and long-term project: a permanent senior facility that will last for generations.

Mason met with Precious and the members of the Golden Gays a dozen times before they could draft up a blueprint. They discussed the technicalities and financials involved in building the infrastructure, but also the operational aspect, such as the composition of the board of directors. “It can’t all be Golden Gays members,” Mason explained, “there has to be business people” — professionals who will give expert advice to keep the facility running smoothly.

‘ ’65’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:a0c51158-9d9e-4e7d-b615-0ec6c50b6c19’ ‘imageCaption’: ‘Lola Amparo and Golden Gays President Mama Mon have a chit-chat

The plan is elaborate but also highly bespoke: a house and lot with its own community center, health center and HIV testing center. The layout was borne of numerous consultations with the Golden Gays lolas — their input shedding new light on the bond of chosen families. For example, instead of individual bedrooms where they can enjoy the luxury of space and quiet, the lolas asked for shared rooms in a dormitory-like setup because they want to “continue to chat at night.”

For many gay people, the fear of growing old can coincide with the fear of being alone. The facility thus becomes more than a permanent shelter: it will also become a home.

“In the ‘60s and ‘70s, they faced discrimination. They were heckled,” Mason reflected. “[I am invested in this project because] you can see them growing into happiness — and it’s something you need to experience to believe.”

Drag is political

To drive this ambitious project until its sweet end, the Golden Gays have the back of the new generation of drag queens.

“Drag is a mirror,” said Brigiding. Back in her casual white tee after the show, she let the sweat and adrenaline of the night’s two-hour-long show dissolve.

“In drag, you put up a performance to represent a character, a scenario, or an event that you want to comment on. A performance reflects society. Hindi lang ‘yan personal. You perform something that people can relate to. Yung mati-trigger mo ‘yung thought process nila para ma-realize nila na, ‘Oh my god, that’s happening. That’s a social issue that I’m not aware of.’ ”

“The generation now is more ‘woke’ because of social media and the Gen Zs. Mas marami ngayon yung progressive. If before, drag was just seen as a form of entertainment, mas matapang na yung mga drag queens. Hindi na sila limited to copying a diva. Mas artistic sila ngayon in conveying a message.”

And the message of the evening, and for the next series of fundraisers, centers on the Golden Gays.

“Sa kanila tayo nakakuha ng confidence sa performing. They showed us that we can do it. They made their way to acceptance and freedom by performing and being themselves,” she said.

“Matatapang ang generation ngayon because of the Golden Gays. Because of what they started, we’re now here and we’re not going anywhere,” she added. “Hindi natin hahayaan na tolerated lang ang mga bakla.”