Patrick Dunn is confident in his work. As a big part of the development and communication teams at a legal aid association for veterans in New Haven, he’s a reliable colleague — when the time comes to fundraise, he gets the job done.
He’s worked in the nonprofit world for years and has a knack for earnest conversation that could make anyone pull out a checkbook – for the right cause. His networking abilities are top-notch.
All of the skills on Patrick’s resume that help his job at the legal association also happen to be useful for his side gig: being Kiki Lucia, an overwhelmingly successful drag-based performance artist.
“I got paid the first time I put drag on, and I got paid well because I spent 10 years networking and helping people in the drag community,” he explained. He was sitting on the floor of his drag room, a space in his home dedicated to costumes, wigs, jewelry, and props. He was sorting golden feathers for a new look, building a feather wreath as a chest piece.
“And when I did my first show, I offered to do it for free, because I was like, “It's my first time. I may be terrible…" And I hustled. I filled the audience with all my friends. I did four performances because that was the show. And that's not most people's first drag experience.”
That show was a decade ago. It took place after Patrick had been involved in the scene for years, which he was introduced to when his friend John – also known as drag queen Bella Lucia – wanted to learn more about the art.
“John was like, 'Help me get into drag. I want to do this, and I don't know what I'm doing.' I was like, we can do this together,” Patrick said. He helped Bella Lucia learn how to put together and apply makeup looks and helped with performances behind the scenes and on stage. By the time his first performance came around, he was already embedded in the Connecticut drag world.
“Then I was turning 30, and I was like, 'Oh, you know, I've always wanted to do this. Let me just do this once to check it off the bucket list.' I did a show for my 30th birthday, and I just forgot to take it off.”
More than a decade later, that bucket list item is a major part of Patrick’s life. Kiki Lucia hosts events across the state and beyond, from bingo to drag brunch. Her (when performing as Kiki Lucia, she/her pronouns are used) list of performance skills is long and varied, including classical ballet, aerial acrobatics, music theatre, costume and production design.
“Though, my singing voice isn't the best. Or, as I like to say, people don't pay me enough to sing,” Patrick laughed.
He loves being Kiki Lucia. As a queer person who grew up in Turkey before moving to the U.S. for college, he explained the drag world and the family he’s made from it is incredibly important to him.
But that doesn’t mean he’s trying to turn the work into a full-time job. While many artists and creatives see their daytime occupation as a temporary solution to keep the bills paid while their artistry takes off, that’s not necessarily Patrick’s goal. Besides, by now, his drag pays for itself.
“[Drag] is extremely expensive. Thankfully, my drag makes more on an annual basis than I spend. I track everything diligently,” he said, pointing to boxes of receipts below styrofoam heads hosting various hairpieces. “I keep everything in a spreadsheet, and I file my taxes because I do not want to go to jail. I am too pretty for that!”
But it would take a lot for Patrick to give up his other work. He loves what he does in all parts of his life, and the balance that both occupations bring.
“I've always just wanted to make the world better. What I do with my little piece of the organization is I'm helping individual veterans get connected with our services,” he said. “And that would be something that would be very hard for me to give up if I were to go full time. I would probably fall into the trap of doing a lot of charity drag.”
Patrick acknowledged that holding his work as a drag artist in the same headspace as his efforts to help veterans receive benefits can be a struggle. Queerness and the military have a complex history, and he knows some of the people he works to help at his legal aid job wouldn’t necessarily be sat at a table for drag brunch.
But according to Patrick, that reality doesn’t keep him from wanting to help, however he can.
“When you work at a food bank, you don't ask people anything. You just give them the food. If I'm a person that is visually… whatever they may not like, and I'm the one that was able to help them in that moment, that might plant a seed that will change for them later in life. Because in my opinion, you never truly understand your fear of people or your hatred of people until you're faced with it.”
Patrick explained that no matter where a person works, there’s a chance they’ll be judged for who they are. Even when he worked at arts-based non-profits, he said there were moments when he’d be called out for dressing and acting over the top despite also being praised for the same characteristics in the context of successfully raising funds.
“One of my supervisors had made a comment about something I had worn being a little too much. And I was like, 'What would you do if I just showed up in heels one day?' And she said, 'I would stop taking you seriously. And I think everybody would.' I was very taken aback.”
Years later, the situation is different. Kiki Lucia was never a secret at the legal aid association, but not many colleagues knew about the work — until the time came for Patrick to present at an end-of-meeting tradition where a staff member shares what’s “giving them life.”
“I had just two weeks before I performed with Kesha at Foxwoods,” he chuckled. “I did my presentation on my drag, and ended with a photo of Kesha and me. The whole staff was like, 'Wait, is that actually you in drag, and is that actually Kesha?' And now it's just an open conversation. Everybody knows. It's a very comfortable environment in that sense.”
If Patrick were to do drag full-time, he said the work would have to feel consistently fulfilling in a similar way.
“[It] would have to be more than just traveling and performing in traditional drag venues,” he said. “I marched in the first Women's March in full drag in New York City. Those are the moments in my drag career that I think of as these “aha” moments.”
Contributing to the community is why Patrick started doing drag in the first place. As Kiki Lucia, he’s making history.
“The only thing that survives history is culture. Nothing else – laws, people, none of that survives. The art, the culture, the beauty of any society, is the only thing that actually survives,” he said.
“To me, drag is fundamentally part of the culture of queer identity.”
According to Patrick, he cares about helping anyone who needs it, no matter who they are. Kiki Lucia helps to document history in the queer community — both telling it and making it for over a decade. And it feels great to do both.
