Recently, a friend of mine told me that they overheard some random high schoolers talking about me on the tram.

Lowkey, I was a bit proud of the fact I’ve been able to put myself out there enough to reach high schoolers. To clarify: I’m a drag queen, and the randoms were wondering why I had been dressing as Princess Diana and Kate Winslet (white women) recently. My friend so graciously defended my honour.

There have also been quite a few fellow drag friends who make similar observations, not only about some of characters I dress up as, but also with how I paint my face. The most typical comment I hear is that I paint “very white”.

Header image: Courtesy of the author

I am half Vietnamese and half white (English and Scottish).

Raised in Melbourne in a Western environment, I wasn’t taught much Vietnamese, but I was exposed to a lot of the food culture as well as outfits Vietnamese women wear or have worn. I have gone to Vietnam a couple of times, but I was raised predominantly in a white household; we ate mostly westernised meals and we spoke English. 

When starting drag, old Hollywood films of the 1930s, ’40s and ’50s massively impacted and inspired my drag aesthetic. I wanted to convey my love for the glamour and grandeur of the Golden Age of Hollywood.

The majority of the actresses from that era to gain world-renowned status were white. Even actresses of colour dyed their hair and lightened their skin to pass as white in Hollywood to become successful. Most famously, Rita Hayworth changed her name, dyed her hair and had her hairline raised to pass as white.

To my knowledge, the only old Hollywood actress of Asian heritage was Anna May Wong, one of the first Asian-American Hollywood stars. So, when beginning drag in 2017, I had only two ideas in mind: to share my love for old Hollywood and to work with the facial features I’ve got.

Image by: Daniel Sutton Photography.

Being mixed-race, I have been caught with a double whammy of judgment from both the white side and the Asian side of my communities.

I am generally not considered Asian enough by other Asian people, due to my lack of exposure to Vietnamese culture. But my whiteness is also glossed over and conveniently overlooked because of white people’s notions on what mixed-raced Asians are meant to look, sound and act like. 

There shouldn’t be a need to highlight here the horrible atrocities that white people have committed, and continue to commit, against people of colour over the years. At this point, everyone is very aware of their transgressions and very racist history, or at least they should be.

There is no tiptoeing around it. I am white and I am Asian. People can completely miss the concept of nuance and the idea that two things can be true at the same time.

Image: Courtesy of the author.

Mixed-race people with Asian heritage tend to be invalidated for being “too Asian” by white people, who want to interact with things that are familiar and English-sounding – amusingly, while they take a stroll in Springvale and happily walk into a phó restaurant. 

At the same time, we are told we are “too white” by people who have more Asian heritage, especially if we don’t consume enough Asian culture or immerse ourselves enough in that culture. They can be quick to pass judgment towards those who happen to not be raised in an Asian household. 

My whole life I have gotten comments thrown around like, “You’ve got an exotic tone to your skin,” or “You’ve got an Asian dad and white mother?! That’s different!”. I’d also get the usual disapproval because I am half Vietnamese, but I do not like spices or certain Vietnamese cuisines. Sometimes I get told that I am so plain that I may as well be white. 

The micro-aggressions on both sides need to be acknowledged, because objectively and quite obviously, both are bad. They are called “aggressions” for a reason.

I started drag because I love musical theatre, performing and the beauty of old Hollywood. I was drawn to actresses like Rita Hayworth, Jane Russell, Marilyn Monroe and Lauren Bacall, not because of their race, but of how they carried themselves.

I loved the confidence they displayed walking into a room, their hair falling like a graceful waterfall. The image of Marilyn Monroe’s orange beaded gown from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes comes to mind.

These old Hollywood actresses had faced their own hardships in their personal lives, and still managed to walk with their head held high and serve utter elegance. That is something I deeply admire: perseverance.

I never saw Asian actresses in Hollywood be portrayed that way until Charlie’s Angels – Lucy Liu is a goddess. More recently, I was lucky enough to perform with the People of Cabaret (a collective of POC performers) in Werribee, where I got to curate a number by Vietnamese popstar Cam Ly.

The song told the story of a woman missing her lost love who was fighting in the army. For women in Vietnam during the Vietnam War, that was a reality. They were not certain if they were going to see their loved ones again – tomorrow wasn’t promised.

Since the performance, I have been motivated and inspired to infuse Asian fashion and aesthetics into my drag and even do perform more numbers in Vietnamese.

For example, I’m conscious in my choice to wear colours like green, red and gold, and my hairstyles being inspired by traditional Chinese and Vietnamese culture. I also take inspiration from icons like Michelle Yeoh, Constance Wu, Plastique Tiara and Gemma Chen, as well as characters like Chang’e from Over the Moon and Disney’s Mulan.

Image: Courtesy of the author.

I find that my connection to my Asian heritage is not just skin deep – it courses through my veins. Mixed-race people with white heritage get so much flak for being not white enough and not POC enough, from both sides. 

There needs to be less judgment in this world about how someone is connected to their heritage, and more focus and appreciation on the connection they already have with their heritage. 

When it comes to us mixed-race folk, it’s not a matter of “You are either this or that,” it’s more “You are this and that.”

Image: Courtesy of the author.

 

Linh Uendo is the self-appointed Cheezel Queen of the Naarm/Melbourne drag scene. This pocket-sized performer has made a name for herself with her glamorous looks, her charming, easy-going wit, her kindness and her ridiculous hand at puppetry.

Born into a mixed-raced family, Linh is a Prune Belly Syndrome survivor that affects her daily life. From countless hospital trips, to living with a colostomy bag since birth, she doesn’t let her disability stop her from expressing her desire to share the joys of life and living every day to the fullest through her love of drag, pop culture and music. This is Linh’s first publication in Archer Magazine. You can follow Linh Uendo on social media to keep up with her future appearances at @littlelinhuendo.