On a warm Monday night in June, the Kiki House of Felicity hosted its weekly session in a cozy studio space in Denver. The ballroom house always starts with a check in. As the house members sat closely together on the floor, house mother Soleil Felicity LaBeija asked two questions.
“What is most on top? Try to stick to like the biggest thing,” Soleil said. “What do you need?”
One by one, they shared about the important things going on in their lives from family and therapy to work and panic attacks. Then, each added what they need. For some that included more sleep, food and time to hang out with each other as well as patience and love.
“I've just been ripping and running doing all the things,” said Soleil who goes last. “But also I've been letting a lot of things go. Like, if it does not directly involve me or my people, then I'm letting it go.”
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After the check in, it’s time for the mock ball. They lined up pillows on the floor as a makeshift runway and placed chairs at the front so they could sit and judge each other. Soleil instructed them to put on their effects - which are the costumes, the appearance, the whole presentation - and get ready to walk.
The first category is face.
“We're ready now. All right. Judges ya'll ready? Period. Let's get in,” Soleil said and sat down to judge.
Some of them were walking - or competing - in the upcoming Colorado Pride Kiki Ball so this is an opportunity to practice and get feedback.
“Take your time, you’re beautiful darling,” she said, giving feedback to one of the house members. “Yes. Tens across. Thank you, stand to the side.”
This is the Ballroom scene.
Ballroom culture
Ballroom began in the late 1960s with Black and LatinX queer and trans communities in New York City. The first house of ballroom - the House of LaBeija - was started by Crystal LaBeija as an alternative to the drag pageant system which she said was racist.
“She created that house and brought with her a number of Black and brown LGBT folks who mostly resided in an urban area to create the earliest iterations of what we now know as the ballroom scene,” said Julian Kevon Kamilah Glover, an assistant professor of Gender, Sexuality, Women’s Studies and Performance Studies at Virginia Commonwealth University.
The early Ballroom Houses were inspired by fashion houses and fashion magazines, said Glover, like the House of Balenciaga or the House of Ebony. The houses have a mother and father and often serve as a safe haven and support system for queer people, an acceptance many do not receive from their own families.
“It provides folks in the community with a sense of affirmation that we are so often denied from our families of origin, yet we so very much deserve to have,” they said.
Ballroom is known for its balls in which people walk - or compete - in various categories like Vogue, Runway and Realness for trophies and prize money. Each ball starts with a ritual to honor the contributions of people in the scene and give them their flowers, according to Glover. Competitors are grouped into different gender subcategories and battle against members of other houses. The goal is to get tens from the judges and move onto the next round until an ultimate winner is crowned.
“Vogue Femme remains one of the most popular ballroom categories today,” they said, noting the historical importance of this category. “Because they reveal just how central the contributions of trans women are to Ballroom.”
Ballroom has since become a part of pop culture thanks to Madonna’s hit song “Vogue” and tv shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race and Pose. The scene is growing and there are houses across the world. But Ballroom is more than just a spectacle or a big party, Glover said.
“They are doing lifesaving and life affirming work for those who are part of the scene,” they said.
Community, liberation and transformation
Soleil is a Black non-binary femme who grew up in Little Rock, Ark.. She moved to Denver in 2017 to attend graduate school and never left. When Soleil discovered the local ballroom scene a few years later, she had found the Black queer folks she was craving.
“This was very like (the) beginning of the ballroom era in Denver,” she said. “For me, I was seeking community and this was like the platform or way to do that. And through that, I also realized how much, how much liberation I would gain from it as well.”
There are three mainstream Ballroom Houses in Colorado. In 2021, Soleil joined the Denver Chapter of the Royal House of LaBeija. A year later she founded the Kiki House of Felicity, one of four Kiki houses in the metro Denver area.
“Kiki is like minor leagues, like entry level for fun. The stakes really shouldn't be that high,” she said. “Ideally, you would spend some time in the Kiki scene, develop your craft, and then go into the mainstream.”
Soleil takes a lot of pride in being part of the ballroom scene. People respect her pronouns and identity, she said she’s admired for who she is and what she’s doing for the community. This includes being a Kiki house mother where she gets to witness the growth of other folks who, like her, needed an extra layer of support.
“To really figure out who they are, beyond just even gender and sexuality, but who they are as a human and as an adult. And watch them start businesses or just get their nails done for the first time or wear a heel for the first time,” she said. “Just watch those transformations.”
Glórious Felicity is one of these Kiki House of Felicity members going through a transformation.
The cost of being queer
Glórious likes to get manicures and right now, her stiletto shaped nails are painted geometric shapes in different colors. Each color represents her family in the Kiki House of Felicity.
“They really mean a lot to me. So like looking at my nails and looking at the colors, it feels like they're always with me,” Glórious said.
In 2022, she met Soleil at a ballroom workshop and was the first child to join the Kiki House of Felicity. This house has become a salvation especially after growing up in a country where it is illegal to be queer.
Glórious was born and raised in Saudi Arabia, the second youngest of seven kids. As a “Brown Arab man”, she said she’s still figuring out which pronouns to use and determining her gender identity versus expression.
Growing up she loved to dance, lip-sync to Britney and Beyoncé and watch RuPaul’s Drag Race. But living in a very religious household, she had to hide that part of herself.
Glórious came to Colorado eight years ago for college and despite her parent’s wishes to return home she stayed here after graduation.
“Instead, I wrote this whole letter to my mom and dad, and only my mom and dad, that I sent it to about me, kind of like coming out,” she said.
Her parents and a few siblings didn’t take the news well. Still, this past summer, Glórious’s mom, along with a sister and her kids, decided to visit and check on her.
Hours before they arrived, Glórious took off her nails and earrings and the booty shorts and crop tops were put away.
“All of that was put in a box and hid away,” she said.
During their visit, Glórious attended the Colorado Pride KiKi Ball at the University of Colorado Boulder where she walked Butch Queen Vogue Femme. Wearing a purple crop top, skirt and black thigh high stiletto boots, she duckwalked, dipped and performed floor and hand work. There was one other competitor in that category and she ended up losing.
“We both got our tens and then we battled and they won that battle,” Glórious said.
Glórious didn’t invite her family to the ball. However, she had a lot of good times with her mom, and some hard conversations. In the end, the visit helped their relationship and she can be more transparent with her mom. But her mom advised Glórious not to share these things with her father, she said.
In Colorado and in the ballroom scene, Glórious is embraced and accepted.
“Here I can openly be myself, unapologetically,” she said. “It kind of puts things into perspective of seeing what being loved costs in one space, and then the same in the other space. With my family, it costs a lot. It cost me my appearance. It cost me my authenticity, cost me my love for myself. And in the other space with Felicity, it costs nothing.”
