Drag Race Philippines Runner-up Marina Summers lip-synced for the first time in her life at the age of 14.
Her mother scolded her for hosting a school event in clothing traditionally worn by women. “Don’t do that again,” says Marina Teen Vogue, recalls the words of her mother. “It’s okay if you’re gay, just don’t wear women’s clothing.” The world wasn’t ready to be her catwalk. But it was in the safety of the shower—hot water raining down from the showerhead, an audience of soap and shampoo, those silent keepers of secrets—that she found her stage.
Marina’s shower setlist was a carousel of chart-topping artists in the 2010s. She pictured lip-synching in Gaga’s armadillo heels from Bad Romance and Beyoncé’s yellow dress by Emilio Pucci with thigh-length slits from Run the World (Girls), the latter being the first rap she ever memorized. These women showed Marina, who grew up as a young boy in the small town of Bambang, the thrill of performing in front of an audience. That was who she could be in private.
When Marina appears via Zoom, it’s three weeks after the finale of Drag Race Philippines, in which she lip-synched to a global audience and placed second behind Precious Paula Nicole. In a few hours she will release the music video for her new single “Divine”. She is kind and thanks me for postponing our conversation; a week earlier, when a storm swept through Manila, she had camped by her building’s fire escape, the only place with a decent signal to apologize. Marina is bright and bubbly; Apparently, summer lasts all year round.
Last August, the Drag Race The Filipino twist on the franchise was announced, but the timing was completely wrong for Marina. She had a new home, a new job, and a savings account to fill, not to mention the exorbitant cost of drag. Financially and mentally she was few and far between. But it was Marina’s mother who persuaded her to audition. “It’s a one-time thing. It’s the first season, you have to be there,” her mother said. She just needed that extra push. It’s a far cry from Marina’s childhood mother-son relationship.
Marina can see how conservative culture and traditions shaped her mother’s perspective on dressing up. “It kind of comes from a place of love,” she says. “She didn’t want my siblings to be bullied about it, so maybe that’s what it is. But it digs deeper than that.” She came around, and in a meaningful way. As virtual drag became the only way to perform in the pandemic, she became Marina’s offscreen zip top and hair fixer; while preparing for Drag Race Philippines, she drove Marina from province to province for designer faucets; and when money was tight, she lent Marina money to get what she needed.
Femininity seemed to mock young Marina; dress in women’s clothing, live out their full Beyoncé fantasy – all impossible, forbidden. “The idea was if you’re gay and you wanted to dress up as a girl, you wanted to be a girl. But that’s not the case for me,” says Marina. She only settled into her sexuality and discovered the full extent of her self-expression when she found her place in Manila’s queer community and nightlife. That’s when she fell in love with the art of drag.
