While Goode’s sharp eye for fashion has seen her become the standout style star of her season, many commentators have noted that the Drag Race contestants who break through to the upper echelons of the fashion world—Chachki and Aquaria as previously mentioned, along with Miss Fame and Detox—tend to fall within a fairly narrow set of parameters, most notably white and sample size. Drag Race’s thorny relationship with race has become a growing, and important, conversation that the show itself has tended to grapple with clumsily, as queens of color leave the show lagging behind their white peers when it comes to tangible metrics such as booking fees and social media followings. It’s something Goode is keenly aware of, and doesn’t take lightly. “I know that I’m lucky to have been given what I’ve been given, and it’s something that needs to change,” she says.

On the other hand, Goode is hoping that the sense of sisterhood between this season’s queens—as well as the support system they’ve built to rebuff the racist and transphobic hate that can be slung at the cast from more toxic fringes of the fandom—can be used as a force for good. “We’re all such good friends, and I know that isn’t always the case with every season,” she says. “Our group chat is blowing up every single day. We’re all calling each other, and we have each other’s backs, which is so heartwarming and crucial during this time. Together we can all be there for each other, whether it’s to boost our morale and confidence, or offer sparks of inspiration, or even to just alleviate some of the uncertainty. I’m so grateful to have all these girls.”

Still, for better or worse, the relationship between LGBTQ+ nightlife and the global phenomenon of Drag Race is now symbiotic—and it’s currently at a crisis point. Nearly all of the queens who appear on the show have spent years, some even decades, honing their craft in these spaces, relying on notoriously low booking fees and cash tips to survive; later, queens who appeared on the show can act as headliners to draw crowds back into these clubs and spotlight emerging talents. Off the back of most seasons of Drag Race, the newest crop of queens would be doing the usual circuit of queer venues around the U.S., regularly crossing paths to host viewing parties of each episode to packed crowds. (The show isn’t nicknamed “the gay Olympics” for nothing.) As drag bars are forced to shut down, so too is a vital financial lifeline for queer performers lost—a sobering reminder that while there are plenty of talented queens ready to keep us entertained during lockdown on TV, many of their sisters are facing extreme hardship. It’s a point in our conversation that Goode takes real pause to consider her response.

Photo: Marko Monroe Photo: Marko Monroe

“I think if you’re someone who thrives and makes a living on being creative, however hard it might be, this current time should be lighting a fire under your ass,” she says. “It’s crucial to keep the motor running. When all this started to go down, and we knew we wouldn’t be able to perform [in] the near future, I was shaking in my boots, as I’m sure every drag queen in America was. How are we going to make money? It’s tough, both emotionally and physically. But then you have to remember that if it weren’t for artists and creatives, it really would be Armageddon.