Well, reality TV would be nothing without the occasional twist.
To be honest, after last week’s episode, I felt like Aunt Pittypat in Gone with the Wind, searching for her smelling salts. Let’s skip over the trivial nature of the challenges and get right to the heart of the “what the fuck” ending.
Until this week, BenDeLaCreme had this season in the bag. In her own season, I found her annoyingly one-note, but this time around it was a different story. Maybe she got better, maybe I learned something, or maybe it’s just that the competition this season is less intense. (In season 6, Bianca del Rio and Adore Delano turned everyone else into also-rans.)
When Adore quit early on in season 2 of All Stars, I was horrified. I was sure she was on her way to the top two. But artists are a sensitive breed—that’s what enables us to be artists, after all. Every time I post a blog or send a manuscript to an editor, I get a little queasy. And I’m not standing on stage in an outfit I designed, with my own makeup, performing for a hypercritical crowd. So I can give Adore a pass.
DeLa’s was a different story, or so I thought. She was winning, and she seemed pretty confident.
Until Morgan came back and whined about DeLa’s decision long ago to send her home. At the time, it seemed like a strategic move as much as a moral one—getting rid of someone who was openly threatening to eliminate the stronger competition. But the road to hell is paved with rough cobblestones, and a girl in heels can stumble.
What Morgan couldn’t accomplish with a vote, she accomplished through a guilt trip. The conflict seemed to throw DeLa for a loop. Drag queens need thick skin. But perhaps when you’re praised all the time, that thick skin gets a little thinner. Not coincidentally, I suppose, the die was cast in the workroom, while the girls were making themselves up. This is often the most fascinating part of the show: stripped down to foundation, their faces denuded of eyebrows, the queens are at their most vulnerable.
And so, DeLa sent herself home, writing her own name in Wite-Out on a lipstick that, I hoped, was meant to say “Kennedy.”
What a drama queen.