Vale, Atlanta

Once again I find myself in an uncomfortable position -” having to talk about someone who has died.
I understand we all have to leave this world at some point, but knowing that doesn’t make doing it any easier.

Atlanta Georgia -” a showgirl of the ’90s and earlier this century -” died last Thursday. It was shocking for many, particularly given it was so sudden.

Atlanta actually cast me in my first production, Fast Food Fairies, which was on Friday nights at the Flinders Hotel. It was us two fat girls and Farren Heit, thinner than ever. Atlanta and I would sort of jump around behind Farren most of the show, picking up bits of choreography whenever we could, but to be honest when it came to dancing we were both quite shithouse. But our show got a full run before we were sacked, and a cheaper act was employed.

Atlanta was well-known for her many different personas that often saw the light of day. She was complicated and multi-faceted -” a character unlike any other performing on the scene.

But what seemed to draw us back was her humour, a style of humour that could make you roll on the floor in stitches at the drop of a hat. All we had to do was learn when it was okay to have a gasbag and when it was best to stay on the other side of the room.

I learnt a lot of things from Atlanta. One was never to drink apple juice from her refrigerator and another was that if I wanted to make a career out of drag, I was not to listen to anyone, particularly the snide comments that slip from many showgirls’ lips.

I remember one conversation, at a recovery day club at the Midnight Shift, where Atlanta and I were perched under the air-conditioning sipping a little vodka and Coke in a tall glass after a hard day or two of performances.

She turned to me and said: You’re not like the other showgirls. If you want to work, you have to make your own work yourself. Trust me, I know. Drags like us are never cast in dancing shows unless they want someone to poke fun at or get a laugh.

How right she was, and to this day her words still ring true.

She used to make my frocks -” sometimes well -” and give me passes into DCM before I was a showgirl and when it was still safe for a queen to walk in the door there.

God, I remember her doing chook bowling just to make me laugh and you could always guarantee finding us together after a big Mardi Gras or Sleaze weekend.

We are all going to miss your craziness, Atlanta.

info: There will be a memorial at Slide on Thursday from 2.30pm to 10.30pm for Atlanta’s friends, family and acquaintances.