God save the drag kings of England

God Save the Drag Kings of England’s Ramsgate

Activelifezero.com – God save the drag kings, because in a windswept port town on England’s southeast coast, one woman spends her evenings transforming into a leering, mullet-wearing caricature of working-class masculinity. Trudi Jackson, 52, an actor and performance coach who grew up in a mining town in south Wales, has spent the last hour sculpting a chiselled jaw, sponging dragon tattoos onto her forearms, taping down her chest, and gluing hair to her sternum. “My favourite bit is my chin because I get to do the dimple,” she says, brush in hand. But it is the moment she clips on the mustache – a furry appendage transported in its own Tupperware container – that something else takes over.

The voice drops an octave; the stance widens. Walking becomes a rolling swagger, and every woman in the room gets the full up-and-down appraisal with a raised eyebrow: “Alright ‘luv?” Jackson has officially left the building. In her place stands Pat Riarchy, a character who is, in her own words, “a little bit like an inappropriate uncle at a family gathering in the 1970s.” He is leery, sexist, and delights in making women squirm. Despite the bravado of his flowing mullet and leopard-print G-string, Pat is tragically ill-equipped for today’s rules of engagement.

From Karablokey Nights to the Alley Bar Stage

In his stage shows, Pat – often brandishing a Union Jack flag – attempts to make sense of a world where, in his words, “it’s hard being a bloke.” He jokes about “the girls taking our jobs” and is baffled by the acronym LGBTQIA+. At his “Karablokey” nights he sings an original number called “While Yer Down There Luv.” At a local pool during Pride festival, he addressed the gathered swimmers: “I am not a professional aqua aerobics instructor. But like all blokes, I can turn my hand to anything.” For Jackson, the act is cathartic. “It’s my playing out of what it’s like to be born female in a world of this masculinity which was hugely toxic when I was growing up.”

These days Jackson and her character reside in Ramsgate, a harbour town where strings of Union Jacks flutter along the waterfront much like Pat’s flag. Like many settlements along this stretch of coastline, Ramsgate carries pockets of deep deprivation while also drawing artists and those seeking a quieter life away from London. Tucked at the back of a local barber shop sits Screaming Alley, a cabaret production company championing independent artists. Descending a hot-pink stairwell plastered with posters of George Michael and Madonna, you find the Alley Bar and its small stage. On any given night there might be an open mic, a community workshop, or – recently – Jackson’s six-week masterclass for aspiring performers developing their own masculine characters in costume, make-up, movement, and the politics of masculinity, culminating in a live-audience showcase.

A Seaside Town at the Crossroads of Masculinity

What strikes you is that these workshops are unfolding in the kind of English seaside town that voted strongly for Brexit – and where, in the decade since, the hard-right Reform UK has become a major political force. Like other populist parties across the globe, Reform’s brand is tightly wound around traditionalist masculinity. Its leader, Nigel Farage, has cultivated an image of the everyman making campaign stops in the pub, railing against what he sees as social wokeism stopping “young men being young men.” It is precisely the type of macho imagery that Pat Riarchy delights in subverting.

“We’re living through a time when conversations around gender, identity, class and power have become increasingly polarized, and Thanet (the district Ramsgate falls under) reflects that as much, if not more, as anywhere else,” says Lara Clifton, co-director of Screaming Alley. “What interests me is creating a space in the middle of those conversations – not to tell people what to think, but to invite them to play, laugh and spend time together.” Working-class Pat, for his part, would never vote for Reform himself. He views the affluent, private-school-educated Farage as “a posh boy.” Class is an important element to the act, Jackson adds. “It’s a privilege to be woke. And rather than shaming people for their viewpoint, let’s have the conversation: ‘Is it true? Is that real?'”

Jackson has been performing the character for five years, but the idea grew out of the cancel culture she was observing years earlier. “If we can’t debate properly, you close people down and they go underground. Which is why then the manosphere exploded,” she explains. “My feeling is, let’s shine the light on it and laugh at it – let’s laugh at Pat, not silence him. Because when you silence him, then it just becomes insidious.” Walking the streets of Ramsgate with Pat on a sweltering Monday in July, many passersby double-take while others ignore him entirely. On the beach, one woman, Vanessa Duarte, calls out with a wide smile – she recognises him from a previous show at the Alley Bar.

“Let’s shine the light on it and laugh at it – let’s laugh at Pat, not silence him.” — Trudi Jackson

Frequently Asked Questions

Where does the Screaming Alley masterclass take place? The six-week programme runs out of the Alley Bar, located at the back of a barber shop in Ramsgate, Kent. Students develop original masculine characters across costume, make-up, movement, and performance, then present to a live audience at the end of the course.

Who created the Pat Riarchy character? Pat Riarchy is the drag persona of Trudi Jackson, a 52-year-old actor and performance coach originally from a mining town in south Wales. She has performed the character for five years and now lives in Ramsgate.

What is the political context surrounding the act? Ramsgate sits in the Thanet district, a constituency that voted strongly for Brexit and has since seen Reform UK gain traction. Jackson and co-director Lara Clifton frame the performances as a way to invite conversation about gender, class, and masculinity rather than shut it down.

Can members of the public attend shows at the Alley Bar? Yes. The venue hosts open-mic nights, community workshops, and scheduled performances. Pat Riarchy has appeared at Pride events, local pools, and regular cabaret dates in the town.