Miranda cosgrove in panties

I’ve been looking for this romper everywhere. It’s worn by Miranda Cosgrove in the new Netflix movie “mother of the bride”. Anyone have any ideas?

Ethan dramatically removes his balaclava, staring at the judges, revealing that he has shaved his scruffy beard off–and painted his lips oversized, to emphasize every word of the lip sync.
Hey, you, jump in this ride, it’s real nice and slippery inside
On the first line, Ethan back-flips into a split, and when he lands, he’s pointing to his mouth as he nails every word of the complicated rap lyrics.
Niagara Halls: “Holyyyyy shit. We’re getting STARTED!”
Squeeze my body, rock my body, boy, you make me go
Molly flounces around the stage, making funny faces and giving campy white dad dance moves. Ethan spins into a one-legged pose and grabs at himself seductively.
Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na, me go
Ethan grabs the leg holding himself up and yanks it to the side, making it look like he’s about to fall…but he twists into another gravity-defying flip, landing on all fours and kicking his other leg into the air as he reaches out plaintively towards the judges.
If we could be, stranger what you say? I'm really liking that way
Molly grabs at the air towards the judges, emoting fiercely, then pulls at the air comedically as if it’s a rope. She “pulls” herself off of the stage to the floor below the judges’ table, where she pulls a little notebook out of her bra and scribbles a note.
You whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it (uh)
Ethan whips his legs around, spinning out of the headstand and landing in a seductive “paint-me” pose, then kicking one leg up perfectly in time with the song’s whip-crack sound-effect.
Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na, me go
Molly shows the judges her note, which reads: “Please don’t make me steal the potion.” Ethan ignores her, cartwheeling forward one last time and landing in a perfectly posed confident power-punch stance.
…
The girls at the back of the stage look gooped, gagged, and gobbled.
Ethan Angel-Eye: “You’re welcome.”
Now THAT was a way to start the season. Racers…I’ve made my decision.
Shiseido Red: “This time, there’s no question.”
Ethan Angel-Eye. You’re a winner, baby!
Ethan nods, reaffixing his balaclava.
Condragulations–you’ve won this IMMUNITY POTION!–save it for when you’re at your most thirsty and desperate.
Molly Moppit: “Damn it. I wanted thaaat! Your thief of Season 6, robbed from day 1!”
Now, my racers. This isn’t over! You’ve proved why you’re here this week, but very soon, you’ll meet the rest of our cast…and see if you can prove why you should stick around! See you all very soon!!!
~
The racers enter the werkroom.
Lady Gag: “I can’t believe we’ve had our first week, over- and I didn’t WIN!”
“No mirror message, but god, Ethan, you might as well have made Molly write ONE, hah!” Niagara laughs, with no one else responding.
Niagara Halls: “I am so happy to have survived a week. I know I can kill a lip sync. But in a gown? Honey, gods were on my SIDE!” Niagara laughs.
“Funny coming from someone who would’ve gone home tonight!” Molly laughs.
Niagara gasps, before shutting her mouth.
Everyone sits down.
“First of all, I do want to say, despite me looking fantastic, and deserving a top two placement over those who are incapable of doing something exciting, talented and skilled-” Shiseido starts, as Molly gets up, walking away.
“Get on with the compliment.” Ethan looks at Shiseido.
“Congratulations, you cunt.” Shiseido starts to clap, as does Lokii- but no one else.
“Cool.” Ethan nods.
Ethan Angel-Eye: “I don’t need a participation award or clapping. I am a fucking talent, regardless of what the others in this group say. I know what I am capable of, and I am here to win.”
“I just want to know how you’re going to use that immunity potion.” Lady Gag says, playing with her bikini string.
Molly sneaks around the werkroom, grabbing another of Shiseido's wigs.
“Well, why would I tell you?” Ethan stares at Gag.
Gag rolls her eyes.
Ethan Angel-Eye: “When I use the potion, it’ll be for a reason. Smart. Logical. Ready to kill.”
“I do think we need to actually-” Niagara begins to giggle.
The others look confused.
“I think-” Niagara laughs. “Oh my gosh, so dumb…”
“What’s dumb?” Lady Gag looks as the giggling Niagara with confusion.
“Let’s scare these girls.” Niagara giggles. “With a message.”
“Hah.” Molly yells from the other end of the room. “Great idea!”
“I’ll do it.” Lady Gag grins, walking to the mirror.
The others all look on, as Lady Gag smirks, writing her message.
Lipstick Message: “BEWARE, UGLIES- YOU’RE LOSING!”
“Oh… yes.” Lady Gag smirks.
Lady Gag: “These bitches better beware, because the winner- ME, is in the first group. So…” Lady Gag smiles. “I hope you enjoy your one moment… because after that?”
Lady Gag winks.
Lady Gag: “It’s the Gag show.”
“...it’s like her brain is made of pure fumes.” Ethan whispers to Shiseido.
~
https://i.redd.it/wvrj37suo82d1.gif
In a denim pair of play jeans, with a big, pink sparkly belt, a purple t-shirt and a plain vest overlaid on top, Carly Shay Jepsen enters the werkroom with a wink. Her top and vest are covered with little ugly problem patterns and she wears a flat, flat wig, along with a big smile on her face. “Leave it all to ME!”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m Carly Shay, and this is iCar-“
Carly looks at the cameraman.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I can’t say that?! Where’s the fun in thaaaaat?!” Carly cackles. “Okay, round two.”
Carly adjusts herself in the confessional.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m Carly Shay Jepsen, and you want fun drag? Leave it all to me.” Carly laughs. “Damn. That’s me.”
“Oh, first!” Carly cheers, before looking around. “Wait a minute…”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m a Fresno Queen. Originally from Mexico, but you probably can’t tell from this pasty skin.” Carly laughs. “I’m a performer and a body girl living my Nickelodeon popstar fantasy. I don’t do big wild pageant drag- put me in a pair of jeans and heels, and I’m READY.”
“Woah.” Carly runs over to the various dressing stations, staring a bunch of blue clips. “So many clips.”
Suddenly, footsteps are heard, and Carly runs over to the front tables. She trips over her jeans, but turns it into a cool tumble and pops right back up, then runs and sits at one of the stools closest to the door.
“Ahhhhh!!!!” Carly shrieks excitedly.
In a massive black wedding gown, along with a veil that appears to go on for infinity, and a lace trimmed bodice, Francesca La Fataliá enters the werkroom with a smirk beneath her veil. “My wedding.” Francesca pulls apart the dress, revealing the edges soaked with red jewels emulating blood. “Your funeral.”
“OH MY GOD!” Carly falls off her seat in shock.
“…Are you okay?” Francesca raises an eyebrow.
“I’m GAGGED, lady!” Carly says, chuckling. “I’m okay, I’m okay!”
Francesca La Fataliá: “The Mother of Hell has arrived, and-“ Francesca smirks, as if proud of herself. “I’m here to knock you off your seats.”
“Fabulous, because I do not have the ability to help you up in this gown.” Francesca responds, as Carly star jumps up.
Francesca La Fataliá: “I’m the Venetian Mother of The Fatal House, and I’m here to deliver Gothic greatness.” Francesca smiles. “What kind of drag queen am I? Darkness, mystery, murder, performer, lip sync artist, seamstress… just to name a few.”
“This gown is insane.” Carly smiles. “Who did you commission for it?”
“I made it myself, actually.” Francesca nods.
“GAG GAG GAG GAG GAG!” Carly snaps her fingers. “I bought these from Ross. Dress for less.”
“I can tell.” Francesca says with a cheeky smirk.
“Wait- there’s a message.” Carly looks at the mirror message, as Francesca turns around.
“What a stupid message.” Francesca rolls her eyes. “Should this intimidate us?”
“I’m not scared.” Carly shrugs.
Francesca picks up an eraser, and wipes off Lady Gag’s mirror message.
Francesca La Fataliá: “Instantly, I can tell Carly is young. Quite young. But- there’s a charisma to her, as well. It takes off a lot to pull off a pair of jeans, and she’s…half-doing it. And thank god, there’s more to the personality than just luxury brands.” Francesca scoffs.
Out walks Anne Dior Kashaut, wearing head to toe luxury brands- a Chanel Beret in copper, with a matching red wig, a Burberry scarf and vest in bronze, a gray Gucci labeled sweater and caramel mini skirt, a pair of Dior boots and sunglasses- and a massive birkin bag. “Do any of you speak French or German?”
“Brand Whore.” Francesca states matter of factly, shaking her head as she places her bouquet on the table.
“Bien, maintenant je peux dire de la merde sur toi en face.” Anne smiles.
“BONJOUR, HI, BABE!” Carly waves.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am Anne Dior Kashaut, and I’m simply put, your next winner.” Anne does a pageant wave, smiling to herself. “Preparing myself for my campaign moment.”
“Welcome!” Carly goes for a hug, as Anne shakes her head.
“No thanks, I don’t hug competition. Certainly not those in cheap jeans!”
“Wow, bitch!” Carly laughs, as if expecting Anne to be joking.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am a well-studied pageant queen. Each and every detail is impeccable. Stylised and deliberate, every thought prepared. I’m entering this werkroom in luxury. All earned from my multiple titles, of course, because I am a winner.”
“Another European.” Francesca says, looking at Anne.
“Oh, are you one of those Apocalyptica-inspired queens?” Anne looks Francesca up and down.
“No, I’ve been doing this for 20 years.” Francesca responds.
“Yikes!” Anne laughs. “Délabré! Well, I’m a pageant queen. I’ve been doing this for not-too-long-of-a-time, but I can tell you this: I’m a title holder.”
Francesca La Fataliá: “I do drag mostly in Italy, but also all throughout Europe. We do not really have a ‘pageant scene’ on our continent. So, what is she on about?”
“Good for you.” Carly says with a smirk.
Francesca looks at Carly with a smile, as Anne goes to the mirror to look at herself.
“I am done with talking to you.” Anne tosses her hair.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Honestly. The girls I got here with are clearly very untalented. Carly reminds me of a cow. You know? Moo moo?”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “You’re not Nymphe, bitch! If you’re blunt, at least back it up with talent!!”
Suddenly, golden lotus flowers fall in a shower, blown into spirals by a hidden fan. In a tight velvet blue gown, with a floor length train, long blonde locks and a glittering golden lotus flower held in her hand, Nakomis Lotus enters the werkroom with a big smile on her face, before raising an eyebrow. “Elegance… Potentially.”
Anne scoffs, walking over to the main desk and knocking Francesca’s bouquet onto the floor while no one is looking.
Nakomis Lotus: “I am Nakomis Lotus, and I’m damn excited.” Nakomis smiles. “I am 22, living in Tulsa, and I am… a bit of everything.” Nakomis nods. “I love a Pageant competition, but really I love a competition in GENERAL. I am a bit of a reality tv superfan, and Drag Race is my favorite show, along with Big Brother so this is kind of… emotional?”
Nakomis looks around the werkroom and smiles, exhaling a big breath…before bursting into tears. Everyone else looks confused.
Francesca La Fataliá: “Why is she crying?”
Nakomis Lotus sobs for what appears to be 30 seconds straight.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m like… what do I do?! What’s going on?! Did she hurt herself on the walk over?!”
“Are you dying?” Anne asks.
“Sorry, it’s just- I’m here.” Nakomis smiles, wiping her eyes.
Nakomis Lotus: “It just feels a lot, very emotional to be here. I am… really excited, really proud and really thankful to be here. I have been doing drag for 6 years- since I was 16, and now, I am here. Woah. This is a lot.”
“Okay, someone hand her a tissue, I’m not getting up.” Francesca scoffs. Carly hands Nakomis a tissue.
“Hi everyone!” Nakomis walks over with a smile. “How are we all?”
“Fabulous.” Francesca nods.
“Gagging.” Carly smiles.
Anne looks over, then looks away.
“Okay.” Nakomis laughs.
Nakomis Lotus: “Nymphe much? It’s fine. I don’t need Anne to be nice. I mean, you don’t want to be allies with everyone in the werkroom, just the majority.”
“Please, tell us your name, where you come from…” Carly grins.
“I’m Nakomis Lotus, and I am a reality tv superfan, pageant queen, Oklahoma original, just turned 22, and…”
Francesca La Fataliá: “How are these children all supposedly ‘experienced’ pageant Queens at young ages? Do I just not associate with enough twinks? …Or maybe the pageants they’re going to just aren’t much to write home about.”
“Love that.” Carly extends her hand. “Carly Shay Jepsen.”
“….Veeeeery 2007-core…Carly Shay…iCarly?” Nakomis laughs.
“It sure IS!” Carly snaps her fingers.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “Miranda Cosgrove… is an idol. She is an inspiration. She is everything that I want to be. And I really got started doing impersonation stuff. For Miranda and for Carly, of course!” Carly beams.
Nakomis Lotus: “Carly is giving…simple.”
In a massive black leather coat that covers her entire body with a short pussycat wig, Shayla Moon walks into the werkroom. “For this magic trick, I will transform…” Shayla drops the coat to reveal a tight silver two-piece lingerie look, with a moon motif and tons of little moon pins pinned all over the garment. “Into a slut!”
Carly and Nakomis both look excited. Francesca nods. Anne is eating an eclair.
Shayla Moon: “Moon Powers Activate!” Shayla poses. “I am Shayla Moon, Florida’s finest anime whore.” Shayla has a big grin. “I grew up enamored by those magical girls and their transformations in anime. Now, when I found drag- I realized I could become one of those magical girls… and take her to a leather party.” Shayla chuckles.
“This is hot.” Carly smiles. “Like-“ Suddenly, Carly slips onto the bouquet of roses, falling right on her ass.
“Oh GOD!” Shayla says. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”
“Second time!” Carly yells and laughs. “I can deal with this!”
“I got you, I got you.” Shayla helps Carly up, bending over and showing her large and barely covered butt.
“Holy…” Nakomis eyes bulge.
“Oh!” Shayla flushes, then poses coyly for Nakomis. “You like that? All-natural, baby.”
Shayla Moon: “I enjoy my craft, and am quite confident in it. I know how to design to my proportions and of course, love to show off the body- but like, I like being a whore for a reason. Big girls don’t always get seen as sex symbols and I’m all about changing that narrative. A whore with feelings!”
“How did that get there?” Francesca picks up the bouquet that Carly slipped on.
Anne smiles.
HerShe Kiss walks into the werkroom wearing a striped pink corset with matching lingerie undergarments and stockings. The top of her corset forms a heart with white ostrich feathers along the rim over her chest. She opens up the heart, revealing a box of chocolates inside, then takes one and smothers it all over her mouth as if it’s a messy lipstick. “Kiss me, Kiss Me….” She repeats.
“Not another slut!” Nakomis yells.
“More skanks the merrier!” Shayla smiles.
HerShe Kiss: “I know, it’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? This beauty, oh…” HerShe fans herself with a proud grin. “I am HerShe Kiss, and I am your gorgeous drag supermodel.” HerShe adjusts herself, sitting tall. “And I am your first Pit Crew member… going for the drag crown!”
“You look familiar…” Nakomis looks over at HerShe.
“A fan already! Yeah, this isn't my first time strutting in the werkroom.” HerShe winks.
HerShe Kiss: “Looks are first and foremost, my core of drag. I want to be a visual spectacle. I want you to see me and think: wow, she’s HOT.”
“You’re hot.” Shayla grins.
“Thank you! You too, baby!” HerShe smiles. “HerShe Kiss.”
“PIT CREW!” Nakomis yells.
“Sure am.” HerShe smiles. “Formerly, because now, that would be a conflict of interest.”
Francesca La Fataliá: “Sure. Because it’s definitely not a conflict of interest for the judges to already all know and have a relationship with you. Okay. Sure.”
“What’s a conflict of int-“ Carly nods. “Oh, duh.”
“That’s so shocking.” Nakomis smiles. “Like woah, we have a pit crew member competing! That’s almost like if Julie just hopped onto Season 17, hah!”
“What?” HerShe laughs, offering Nakomis, Carly, and Shayla chocolates from the box in her outfit.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am not impressed by HerShe’s look. Loose threads it’s having like. Messy reveal.”
HerShe smiles. “Sure feels weird being on the other side.”
A long white carpet with yellow polka dots rolls out into the werkroom from the entrance. In a massive white and yellow polka dot dress, coat and matching umbrella, her face painted with the same white and yellow dots, and her wig…matching the same white and yellow...Mrs. Vicki Anderson enters the werkroom, a huge grin upon her face. “Dots going on?”
Shayla and Carly burst into laughter.
Mrs. Vicki Anderson: “Oh hello hello hello!” Vicki waves. “It’s me, your gay uncle! Mrs Vicki Anderson!” Vicki cackles. “I am representing your local drag, and proudly so!”
“Camp Queen.” Anne rolls her eyes, looking at Vicki.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “This kind of drag is outdated. And did you notice, she has that sort of HORRID wig on?”
Vicki adjusts her wig.
Mrs Vicki Anderson: “Drag is the ultimate expression of fabulousness for me. I love it- the ability to dress up, have fun and let people enjoy the show! I am a Queen for all ages. In North Dakota, there aren’t all that many places where someone like me can perform, so my drag is for everyone, and I want everyone to feel welcome and proud to do drag and enjoy the world that is my silly little drag.”
“This is such a cute concept.” Shayla smiles. “What’s your name?”
“Well, I’m Mrs Vicki Anderson, and I love drag. I'm 40 years old and excited!” Vicki cheers.
“Wow, we have some GRANDMOTHERS here.” HerShe says with a smirk.
“Let’s not be saying that. We have some babies too.” Francesca looks at HerShe coolly, filling her nails.
HerShe looks scared for a moment, then laughs.
“I’m just a drag mom.” Vicki smiles. “Not a grandma yet! The scene in North Dakota is pretty small.”
“Ohhhh you’re a Big Sky kinda girl…” Nakomis nods thoughtfully.
“Sure thing! She’s my neighbor!” Vicki chortles.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Isn’t this a modern competition? Searching for the next Drag Superstar? I’m not super trying to go back in time right now.”
It’s Drag Time!
Chronologica steps into the werkroom, and everyone nods, excitedly.
Nakomis Lotus: “As we can tell, the clothes and items are ALREADY here. Split premiere, season 3, episode 1 and 2, IF you watched the show!”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “What the fuck is a split premiere? Do they even have bananas at the movie theater?”
…
Carly Shay Jepsen: “Oh, I prefer a two-parter, hey! Sure!”
Hello, racers! I’m thrilled to welcome you to the slaaaaaytastic Season 6 of Chronologica’s Drag Race! Here, you’ll be competing for the chance to win a spectacular crown and scepter from Moxie Maniac jewels, plus an extra-special grand prize of $100,000.
“No prize increase this time around?!” Nakomis jokes.
The others look on.
One of you could become the next Drag Superstar… or, you could lose against one of the competitors who entered the FIRST time around. All I can say is this- we’ve already had a lip sync, and it’s going to be an interesting journey seeing where we go from there.
Francesca La Fataliá: “I note the interesting wording. For some, the words lip sync may elicit fear, but to me, it doesn’t. I am a drag Queen, and I love to lip sync. Of course.”
For your very first challenge, you’re proving your worth in a premiere talent show. Show us what your special talent is, and how it’s a reflection of YOUR brand, first and FOREMOST. Good luck! And don’t fuck it up!
Mrs. Vicki Anderson: “For me, drag is so fun. It is so entertaining and most of all, my drag is something I can do. Only me! Because everyone is talented, everyone is exciting in their own unique ways. A talent show is a fabulous way to show it off.”
~
The racers begin to de-drag and start looking at each other, preparing for each other’s station to be determined.
Shayla Moon: “Now, I am proudly in a relationship with two of the hottest, most kind men in the world, but I’m also an ethical skank, so of course, when we begin de-dragging, I start looking.”
“Oh, Ms. Anne…” Shayla whispers to Carly. “Kinda a twunk?”
Anne picks up both her suitcases at once, her muscles on show as Shayla begins to fan herself.
“…Can I come join your station?” Nakomis looks over at Anne, as Anne shakes her head.
“Bonjour. Oui, en supposant que vous compreniez le français?. If not, farewell?” Anne smiles.
“…I don’t speak French.” Nakomis looks at Anne.
“Oui, vous êtes inutile.” Anne laughs, looking deadpan at Nakomis.
Nakomis’ face goes blank.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “English is not my first language I speak. It is also a very ugly language. If there were to be a Drag Race in Luxembourg, I would win that, but instead I am here, speaking in the tongue of a rat. Bleh.”
“Nakomis, girl, come with me!” HerShe waves Nakomis over.
Nakomis nods, running over, as Anne pulls out tape blocking her section.
“Okay, I get the hot twunk thing, but I also don’t TRUST a twunk.” Carly says. “They’re… suspicious. This one gives a cursed, demonic energy.”
Anne smiles, looking at a picture of herself that she has put on the wall- a calendar with her face on it, and the current date, the words ’WIN’ on it.
“Yeah, I do prefer a fem queen, often enough.” Shayla ponders. “But also, you with those glasses?”
“ME?!” Carly gasps.
Shayla Moon: “I’d definitely make out with Carly.”
“You’re cute as hell!” Shayla says, looking over. “And then there’s…”
The two stare at HerShe, who’s taken her top off.
“Jesus Christ.” Carly gasps.
“I am a bit nervous about not being able to keep up with my lifting…” HerShe says to Nakomis, who’s also staring at HerShe’s bare chest.
“Yeah, totally, like…” Nakomis nods, trailing off.
“I just really value the gym. For me, it’s part of the persona, in and out of drag.” HerShe nods. “HerShe and Max.”
“Yeah….” Nakomis nods.
…
“Yeahhhhhh I want to make out with everyone.” Shayla says to Carly.
“I don’t know about you, but what I want to do is win, man!” Carly jokes, and the two laugh.
“Win the crown, win a thousand hearts…can’t I do it all?” Shayla winks.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “Love love LOVE Shayla. Amazing energy. Like, the other girls are cool and all, but this bitch is FUN. And I’m fun! We’re gonna get along great.”
…
“I feel a lot of THIRST in the air.” Vicki smiles, looking at Francesca.
“Certainly a lot of staring.” Francesca adds, irritated.
“I don’t know if I’m quite as pretty as the others-“
“Pretty doesn’t grab a crown or title.” Francesca says. “My family certainly isn’t a bunch of children. It’s talent.”
“I think these kids have talent too!” Vicki grins.
Francesca purses her lips. “That remains to be seen.”
~
Chronologica goes to visit the racers.
HerShe Kiss! What a twist it is seeing YOU here.
“Doesn’t it feel RIGHT, though?” HerShe smiles, chuckling in a playful manner and throwing her long, flowing boy locks over her shoulder, in a flounce like she’s done it 1000s of times before.
It feels like a grand opportunity to me.
HerShe smiles.
Tell me, what is your talent show?
“I’ll be doing a sexy, hot STRIPTEASE.” HerShe smiles.
I kinda expected that!
“Oh, yay!” HerShe winks. “You know me well.”
Not necessarily a good thing.
HerShe looks at Chronologica with a nod, as Anne appears to start listening in.
Not a bad thing either, but I do want to understand. Why this? How does this reflect your drag?
“It’s hot, it’s about sex appeal and fun, and you’re going to want to eat me all up. Just like a chocolate HerShe Kiss.” HerShe smiles.
Well, this is a great opportunity to see you do you. I’m looking forward to that.
HerShe nods.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Let me tell all of you dumb Americans on the television THIS: your chocolate? Is HORRIBLE.”
“I think that went well.” HerShe says to Nakomis, who snaps her fingers excitedly.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I’m from Luxembourg. We are not the masters of chocolate, either. I can tell you that, the title belongs to the Swiss.”
“Well, we love to hear that…” Nakomis smiles. “Edit in your favor…”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “But the issue with American chocolate is this problem.” Anne looks into the camera, taking out a Hershey's chocolate bar.
Anne raises the chocolate bar to the camera.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Look at this chocolate. So AMERICAN.”
Anne swirls the bar around.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “A typical reflection of the American values. A marketing focused object. The chocolate bar is simple, has been like this for years, you know? It is the American Hershey brand. They all love it. But it’s far too sweet.”
Anne shakes her head.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “The issue: the chocolate is overly sweet. It’s not designed for a sophisticated palate. It is not designed to elicit complex feelings. It is mass produced and it is EASY. And HerShe Kiss?” Anne scoffs.
“I do hot drag. I’m going to showcase the body.” HerShe smiles. “Point blank.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Mass-produced, generic-brand American chocolate. She’s nothing of style, she’s nothing of taste, she’s not for me. She’s easy. And easy takes you nowhere.”
Anne squashes the Hershey’s chocolate bar, and throws it behind herself.
…
Hi, Shayla! Love the crop top.
Shayla shimmies, stretching to show off their Sailor Moon crop tee.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I can’t look. What is she wearing?”
Shayla Moon: “I’m not shy about my body, and I’m not shy about being a blerd. You’re getting what you’re getting, 100% of it.”
Tell me, how do you feel about the talent show?
“I am a perfectionist.” Shayla smiles.
Good or bad thing?
“Good, mostly. In this case, certainly. Because I really do think my talent is going to be fantastic, because I have planned, prepared and thought it through a thousand and three times, and come to THIS conclusion.”
Not a thousand, but a thousand and 3?
“Yes. I am an anxious mess.” Shayla winks. “My ass is fat, but so is my desire for validation and my need to perform well.”
Chronologica chuckles.
Tell me, what’s this talent?
“I’m going to need you to stay with me, okay?” Shayla looks at Chronologica.
Sure.
“A lip sync to bad romance.” Shayla starts.
Simple.
“I have a Rabbit.”
A bunny?
“The… toy.” Shayla smirks.
OH, that kind!
“Yes. Who doesn’t love a toy?”
True.
Shayla smiles. “This is a malfunctioning toy.”
Oh dear- what happened?
Shayla makes a cute pouty face. “Overuse.”
Chronologica laughs.
“Whilst I lip sync, I’m dismantling this thing, and remaking it. Dancing around stage while I’m rewiring its pieces and adding some new special tricks. And then obviously it gets fixed at the end, and well…” Shayla sticks her tongue out.
How does this represent… you?
“I'm an engineer out of drag. I love a magical girl. I’m obsessed with the transformation story, the level-up, the design of it all…and my brand is fundamentally cheeky, sexy, cute. . It’s all of that.”
I’ll admit- it’s nothing I’ve seen before. BUT… I want to see how you do it.
Shayla grins. “Get ready!”
Shayla Moon: “I know I am doing something off-kilter. But that’s me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
…
Hello, Nakomis.
“Chronologica, I cannot believe I am here. This is the werkroom moment, you getting to chat to me about what I’m doing this week!” Nakomis says excitedly.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Nakomis is annoying. And also far too transparent about their perspectives. Too many cards she is having on the table.”
Well, you’re here. So ground yourself in this moment and enjoy it.
Nakomis closes her eyes and smiles, a single tear rolling down her face.
…Are you crying?
“It’s just SO good.” Nakomis laughs.
Okay, tell me, tell me, what is your talent show?
“A comedy set about my failed love life.” Nakomis nods.
Oh, wow, someone did comedy last week, and they were in the bottom!
Nakomis Lotus: “ALARM BELLS!”
“Oh, well I don’t plan to be.” Nakomis smiles.
Tell me, do you host?
“I do, I’ve done it as part of my talent circuit in the pageant scene.” Nakomis nods.
Okay… Okay…
Nakomis smiles.
And how does this represent Nakomis Lotus?
“Lotus is part of my heritage–it’s beauty–and Nakomis is my favorite reality tv contestant. She’s real, and tv has taught me a lot, including playing it comedic. Having the jokes is always good for your edit. So I am doing that.”
Then why don’t you do the stand-up about that? Reality television? It seems like that’s more core to who you are as an artist.
“You raise good….points.” Nakomis nods. “Maybe so…”
Think about it, Nakomis. Best of luck!
~
The next day, the racers get ready for the main stage.
Nakomis is sitting on her own, writing new notes.
“…Nakomis, you’re writing. A bit late?” Anne smiles, already fully dressed.
“Chronologica kinda suggested to shift shit up. So, I’m writing a new set.” Nakomis says. “Whole different concept.”
“Interesting.” Anne ponders. “You’ve seen the show, I believe?”
“Of course I have!” Nakomis says with a loud bark.
“We know it doesn’t always work changing, last minute. Have you considered perhaps…” Anne stops herself.
“Considered what?” Nakomis raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve honestly come here to win- I am quite focused on that, to be transparent, and I don’t really care for helping, but I’d suggest actually COMBINING concepts. That’s what I’d do.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am, actively making sure she does badly.”
“That- listening to Chronologica, AND doing your own thing- wildly enough, I don’t know if it’s been done before?” Nakomis shakes her head, pondering. “It hasn’t. Maybe…”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “If she does both, to me, she’ll fail to do EITHER section well. And that’s to my detriment, to aid my likelihood of being in the top. And honestly, she does likely know things that could be useful, so maybe her going early helps.” Anne smiles.
“Yeah. I’m going to do that.” Nakomis grins.
“So, I feel like, Vicki- Francesca, I didn’t really hear about your talents!” Carly grins, as they start to drag-up. “I’ve heard Shayla’s-“
“I’m excited.” Shayla smiles.
“…Are you wearing flared jeans for the talent show?” Francesca asks.
“Well, yes!” Carly nods.
“…I am doing something that’s near and dear to my heart.” Vicki smiles. “Singing.”
“Oh, fuck yeah, I’m a singer too!” Carly cheers.
“Oh, lovely!” Vicki smiles.
“I’m certainly not.” Francesca continues to paint her face.
“For me, I’ve always wanted to be on Broadway. I tried, but I just- I have a lovely grandmother, who’s cared for me since I was 6.” Vicki starts.
“Oh…” Carly smiles.
“My mother- my birth mother, she was addicted to all kinds of things, so grandma Vicki raised me. She inspired me- and obviously is one of my namesakes. But when I hit 18, she got sick. I realized I couldn’t go to that big city, the Big Apple…”
The others nod sadly.
“I had to instead care for her. But, at the same time- I found drag. I found I could take up those singer dreams in a little persona.” Vicki’s eyes light up. “Grandma Vicki didn’t always understand everything I was doing, but she always supported me. Even in little old Jamestown.”
“So sweet.” HerShe smiles absentmindedly.
“I really found I didn’t need to go to New York, in the end. Sure, my audiences are smaller, but since they don’t see drag very often, it’s a big deal. Art in the little small places matters so, so, SO much, maybe even more. Nakomis, you get it, right?” Vicki smiles.
Nakomis looks surprised, looking up from her notes nervously. “Huh?”
Vicki looks apologetic. “Coming from Oklahoma, I mean.”
Nakomis nods. “Oh, yeah.” She goes back to writing.
Nakomis Lotus: “Aghhhh I really want to engage–I know being in conversations like this is how I start building alliances! But I need to make sure I don’t go home, first!”
“I totally get what you mean, though, Vicki.” Carly speaks up. “I didn’t really have any of those problems because I was so successful getting gigs right off the bat, but I bet it would be really hard to do drag somewhere so backwater!”
Shayla Moon: “Oh…Carly…that’s not…” Shayla laughs.
Vicki laughs. “I don’t know if you understood exactly–”
“I’m giving this popstar sensation rave performance just because I know it’s what the girls at home in the middle of nowhere need to see!” Carly smiles broadly. “Singing, dancing, glow-lights, flashy denim, like, everyone loves a tv-girlie all grown up!”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Everyone? No.”
“I mean! Chronologica said we’re supposed to do a talent that shows off our best skills and lines up with our brand! So that’s what I’m doing!” Carly chuckles, twirling around with a smile.
“Me too, Carly.” Vicki shakes her head, chuckling.
Francesca La Fataliá: “Carly is obviously a little stupid, yeah…but there’s something about her I can’t put my finger on. The same can’t be said for these so-called ‘pageant girls.’”
Francesca purses her lips. “My performance is a full giallo spectacle. Reveals upon reveals, horror thrills upon thrills, dark mysteries and surprises, and of course, a lip sync. La gialla femina–best believe it will be enjoyed.”
“Do you think that it is perhaps a bit…predictable?” Anne asks, trying to play innocent.
“Predictable?” Francesca’s tone curls in irritation.
“Well, quite, yes. I personally am known for being fantastically pretty, but I am not just parading around my body and how pretty I am. I will work to be the surprise in the talent show. Taking advantage of my natural talents, and twisting them into something new.” Anne smiles haughtily.
Francesca seethes. “You think my horror reveal performance won’t surprise?”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Now. Italian chocolate is a different type of story. Bitter, truffley, over-flavor, nutty. It lingers in the mouth, even when you do not want it. Little bits of powder get all over and everywhere.”
HerShe applies her blush, puffing her lips as she looks in the mirror, while Francesca glares at Anne with an icy expression.
Anne shrugs. “I just mean that it is exactly what everyone would think you would be doing.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “The good thing about a Hershey’s bar of chocolate is that it is essentially harmless. It is not biting enough to do anything to anyone too bad, and you can throw it away, and not have a problem. An Italian chocolate, however…Amadei? Caffarel? Domori?”
“You’re so funny, Anne.” Francesca says, gritting her teeth.
“What is giallo, may I ask?” Shayla looks over, as Francesca’s face suddenly softens. “I am not the most pop culture-oriented.”
“That’s crazy, because I look at you, and think ANIME!” Carly grins.
“I know anime, but I don’t know much else, honestly.” Shayla shrugs.
“Giallo means yellow, in Italian. But the real origins of it for me are the murder mysteries- Italian horror movies. My brother was a huge fan- he actually enjoyed it in its heyday, the… 70s.”
“Old.” Anne whispers.
“They are shocking horror movies–blood, gore and guts. But beyond it, the main theme lies in going beyond the Anglo-American taxonomic boring imaginary.” Francesca shrugs.
“What’s that-” Carly raises an eyebrow. “...Mean?”
“It’s not the typical-” Francesca contorts her mouth. “American horror moment!!!” She speaks in an faux American accent. “It’s about the confusing genre mix. It is hard to understand, it is inaccessible, it is terrifying…”
“I love that.” Shayla smiles.
“Orgasma, blood and black lace, paranoia…” Francesca speaks with passion in her voice. “And I believe I can do so much with this in my drag. For me, the idea of transformation into a dark, alternative form of drag- something art, something confusing, exciting and bloody… that’s my drag. And for this BRANDING challenge-” Francesca looks at Anne. “It is the perfect choice I believe. It’s my talent.”
Shayla Moon: “I can’t believe that Francesca… is such a damn nerd like me!” Shayla laughs.
“What did you say?” Anne eyes Francesca, looking over.
“I said…” Francesca looks straight at Anne. “I’m going to slaughter you.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “So… the real thing is, Italian chocolate is going to kill your dog, in thirty minutes.”
An alarm sounds, announcing it’s time for the talent show to begin. Carly and Shayla whoop with enthusiasm. Vicki rubs her hands together eagerly. HerShe dabs a bit more blush onto her nose. Nakomis looks up from her notes, gasping in surprise. Anne smirks.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “In the worst case scenario, I know my dog will not be the one dying today.”
~
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