VICTORIA FALLS The Crown, The Story, The Legacy

From the first time she stepped onto a stage in a borrowed wig, Victoria Falls has embodied a kind of magic that can’t be taught—an alchemy of glamour, grit and raw emotional truth. Born and raised in the vibrant pulse of Queens, she has transformed her love of fashion and storytelling into a drag persona that is equal parts showstopper and soul-bearer. As Miss Fire Island 2024, Victoria stands not only as a reigning queen but as a living thread in the tapestry of queer history, carrying forward the traditions that shaped her while fearlessly reimagining what comes next. Every appearance is an act of artistry, every performance a testament to resilience, and every moment in her presence feels like history in the making.

You first adopted the name Victoria Falls back in college, growing out of a spontaneous karaoke gig. What do you remember most clearly from that first transformative night?

I remember the adrenaline. I walked up in a borrowed wig, lip-synced for my life to a Whitney classic, and something just clicked. I wasn’t just performing—I was channeling a version of myself that had always existed, waiting for a stage. The name “Victoria” came out of my mouth before I had time to second-guess it, and from that moment, she was real. I didn’t know it then, but it was the start of something much bigger. Falls came a little later on with my volunteer work in the Imperial Court Of New York.

You were born in NYC and raised in Queens, with early interests in costume design and fashion. How did that foundation shape your drag persona and journey?

Growing up in Queens, you’re surrounded by color, culture, resilience—and plenty of flair. I was always sketching gowns, reimagining old clothes, digging through fabric and thrift stores on Steinway Street. Fashion wasn’t just a hobby—it was a language I spoke fluently. Drag became the ultimate medium to express my love for costume, glamour and storytelling. Victoria Falls is a character, yes, but she’s built on years of stitching, styling and studying silhouettes.

Being crowned Miss Fire Island 2024 was a momentous honor. How did the experience of winning compare with your prior titles like Cherry Grove Homecoming Queen and Miss Ice Palace?

Miss Fire Island felt like the culmination of everything I’d been building toward. Those other titles—each meaningful in its own right—were stepping stones, chapters in a larger narrative. But Miss Fire Island carries legacy, history and a responsibility to represent something much bigger than myself. Winning was both humbling and electrifying. I felt the weight of the crown, not just on my head—but in my heart.

Can you share one moment during your reign that stands out as exceptionally meaningful or transformative?

There was a Pride party where I performed a spoken word piece about queer ancestry—part tribute, part rallying cry. Afterward, a young trans woman came up to me in tears and said it was the first time she felt seen. That moment reminded me that drag isn’t just sparkle—it’s sanctuary. And if I can create even one of those moments per season, I’ve done my job.

You’ve described drag as not just performance but full character creation. What’s your process for transforming into Victoria Falls, both inside and out?

It starts with the story. Who is Victoria tonight? A showgirl from the 1940s? A warrior priestess in rhinestones? Once I lock in the vision, I move to mood boards, music, costume construction and makeup design. Mentally, I enter a different space—it’s like flipping a switch. Victoria isn’t a mask; she’s an amplification. And with each lash, heel and hem, I become more aligned with her power.

What themes or messages do you explore most in your drag, and how do they reflect your personal values or creative ethos?

Resilience, elegance and evolution. I’m drawn to themes of rebirth—phoenix rising energy. I often incorporate symbolism from nature, mythology and queer history. I want my drag to say, “You can be broken and still glitter. You can fight and still wear heels.” My ethos is rooted in authenticity and high camp with heart.

Fire Island traditions like the Fourth‑of‑July Invasion and events hosted at the Ice Palace are significant queer cultural touchstones. How do you see yourself contributing to that heritage?

I see myself as both a bridge and a torchbearer. I honor the queens who paved the way—those who marched, who built these stages with stilettos and sweat—and I aim to bring fresh vision while preserving their legacy. Whether I’m hosting, performing or just being present, I want every moment to feel like part of something sacred.

As someone deeply embedded in the Fire Island drag community, how do you envision fostering trans/gender‑diverse inclusivity in future events and spaces?

By listening first—and then amplifying. I believe in making space and giving up space when needed. That means booking trans talent, advocating behind the scenes, challenging outdated norms and building coalitions that reflect our full community. Drag is, and always has been, a gender-expansive art form. It’s time all our stages reflect that truth more boldly.