Empower Your Inner Diva: My First Vogue Femme Class Experience

Introduction

Throughout 2022, I witnessed a growing number of public presentations where queer individuals proudly embraced their identities, a practice I have always yearned to see more of. Then, in 2023, my fascination with this vibrant expression of identity reached new heights when legendary pop singer Beyoncé introduced her album "Renaissance" to the world. This House-style album brought queer dancers to the forefront of her world tour, featuring a captivating 5-minute mini ballroom scene on stage. Intrigued by this mesmerizing performance, I delved into its origins and discovered "Ballroom Culture," a rich subculture rooted in the Queer Latino and African American communities.

This culture serves as a sanctuary where individuals can shed the constraints of a heteronormative society, allowing them to explore their gender presentation creatively and fluidly through performance. Captivated by this little-known yet profoundly impactful subculture, I immersed myself in learning more. Through persistent networking and reaching out to community members, I finally attended a workshop that taught the five basic elements of "Vogue Femme.”

In this blog, I will share my journey into the vibrant world of ballroom culture, explore the rich history and significance of Vogue Femme, and reflect on the empowering experiences and conversations I’ve had with members of the ballroom community.

Commencement with Local Ballroom Community

Reaching out to the ballroom community in China was a challenging and time-consuming process. It took considerable effort and patience to gain access, reflecting the community's cautious and reserved nature. This guarded demeanor is indicative of the status of ballroom culture in the Asian context, where it occupies niches akin to underground club culture and public representation is scarce. One strong indication of this is the secretive manner in which ballroom events are organized. Typically, the venue for a ballroom scene is announced just a day before the event. This secrecy stems from the pressure exerted by local authorities, who often view queer activities as unconventional and unwelcome. As a result, finding the community can be difficult, as they have developed a high level of vigilance through years of experience.

Despite these challenges, I appreciate the community's alertness, though it raises questions in my mind about why the freedom of self-representation should be so limited and demeaned in the larger social context.

First Vogue Femme Class

 At the beginning of my first Vogue Femme dance class, I was introduced to the five fundamental elements: Catwalk, Duckwalk, Spin&Dip, Hands Performance, and Floor Performance. While these elements appeared simple at first glance, I quickly became overwhelmed by their underlying intricacies. The focus of the first class was primarily on the "Catwalk."

Honestly, I felt a sense of shame for not being able to proficiently master the catwalk's distinctive, fierce style. My steps were unsteady, and I struggled to embody the confident, bold attitude that defines the catwalk. In retrospect, I realize that my hesitation stemmed from a reluctance to fully embrace my "cunty" persona—a term in ballroom culture denoting a fierce, unapologetic attitude. I was still clinging to a mindset influenced by traditional masculinity and the socially preferred gender presentation, which held me back from fully expressing myself in class. Here is one short video clip my solo performance. Plz treat me well, I am just an amateur :)

Beyond the Catwalk: Embracing Femme Power in Voguing and Ballroom

“You look cunt” is an accolade made to a performer who walks Vogue Fem category. Indeed, throughout the practice, Gaga repeatedly emphasized the importance to be cunty. From here, I want to introduce more about the origin of Vogue Fem. This form of performance integrates Voguing (the original dance type) and the vibe presented by Femme Queen (Transgender Women), aiming to celebrate the extreme femineity that is undegraded by the femme-phobic society. Usually walked by Butch Queen (Cisgender man who engages in same-sex loving practices), Vogue Fem needs performance with a deep understanding of femineity to achieve the so-called “cunty energy.”

My understanding of Vogue Fem is like a rebellion against a heteronormative society where male figures cannot act in a sissy way and being in a feminine way in itself is problematic (due to the insidious femmephobia in our society). Instead, Vogue Fem gives Butch Queen spaces to explore their aspiring inner traits that can hardly perform outside the ballroom scene, in turns blurring the gender boundary that has been deeply rooted under a broader social context and giving queer folks a safe channel to perform and proceed self-exploration (gender performativity) with little constraint. That said, it’s not only an exclusive space for Butch Queen, though mostly permeated by them in the ballroom scene. Ballroom culture is, in essence, a place for transgender to explore their self-identification.

Conversation with Ballroom Members (House of Rhodo Rosa)

After wrapping up the intense two-hour workshop, the members of the House of Rhodo Rosa invited me to join them for dinner. This simple act of hospitality highlighted the welcoming nature of the ballroom community. Sitting around the table with them, I quickly realized that ballroom culture is about so much more than just performance and competition—it's about building a tight-knit community.

The conversation flowed easily, and it felt like I was among old friends. They were open and candid, and we talked about everything from our favorite dance moves to deeper topics. One thing that really struck me was how they emphasized the importance of sexual health. They casually reminded me to always carry condoms and shared their own experiences navigating romantic relationships as queer individuals. This wasn't just small talk; it was genuine advice born from real-life experiences. What really hit home was how the ballroom community also serves as a platform for sex education, especially for LGBTQ+ teenagers who might not have access to this information elsewhere. It’s not just about dancing; it's about creating a safe space where people can learn, grow, and support each other.

By the end of the night, I felt a sense of belonging that I'd never experienced before. We laughed, shared stories, and bonded over the shared challenges and joys of urban life. It was clear that ballroom culture is a sanctuary, a place where everyone can be themselves and find a community that truly understands and supports them. For the first time in my eighteen years, I felt like I had found my people.