Good Girly

Divinity through fashion is not just a church thing, of course. But one cringes to consider what the pious ladies of Crowns would make of the dolls in The Girly Show, an unruly (and utterly lovable) drag cabaret breaking all the commandments it can every Monday night at Bar Natasha. Fundamentally, it seems to be about the same thing as Crowns — the need for community and the correspondent need to shine within it — and no amount of churchy proselytizing will ever convince me that “Wade in the Water” will get anyone to heaven faster than Gloria Gaynor will.

But one look at the falsies C-cupping out of Justin Van Pelt’s shimmery see-though top, or at Evan Gamsu frocked up in drapes and sequins as grand dame (read: “old bitch”) Ida Dunham, and the toes of Crowns‘ parishioners would probably curl up like the wicked witch’s under Dorothy’s house — appropriate given that this month’s show’s host is Dorothy herself, as embodied by natural-born woman Jessica Dressler. She starts the show in red bloomers, a gingham dress and a whirling twister, and she brings to the part cleavage by the pound and a tongue so deadly, she should register it with the concealed-carry office — at one point, she brags that she fucked the Tin Man’s nose.

Some of the funny chatter gets lost in the gigantic space, but it’s free, frisky madness, and more often than not, it’s musically involving, thanks to director Missy Koonce, musical director Anthony Edwards and a quartet of queens game for anything. Torch songs melt in the mouth of Chris Holbrook’s Paige Turner, and a boozy De De DeVille croaks out songs and one-liners that hit. Like Crowns, it builds as it goes. The climax here even involves our heroines in choir robes — they whip them off, of course, to reveal the fabulousness underneath. For these gals, the divine is not all in — or on — one’s head.