Two St. Louis natives reveal the world of kiki in a new streaming series

There were no signs of life, not even a vehicle on the street, when I arrived at a windowless, seemingly vacant building in East St. Louis for Meko Lee Burr’s My Bloody Valentine Ball. I wondered whether my map had led me astray. I circled the building and, in back, found parked cars and an illuminated rear entrance.

The contrast between the desolate streetscape and what I found inside was striking. I was immersed in a riveting world of fantasy, fashion, and improvised opulence as participants strutted and vogued for a panel of judges who’d make Simon Cowell look like a softie.

“Vogue balls,” or “drag balls” as they are sometimes called, have been taking place in Harlem as far back as the 1860s. In the 1920s, Langston Hughes proclaimed drag balls the “strangest and gaudiest of all Harlem’s spectacles,” but the largely Black and Latinx LGBTQ underground ball culture has mostly existed out of mainstream awareness throughout its long history. 

The culture enjoyed a moment in the spotlight in 1990 with Jennie Livingston’s powerful documentary Paris Is Burning, which explores the highly structured ball competitions in which contestants “walk,” much like fashion models on a runway, and compete, or “battle,” with other performers. That same year, Madonna introduced voguing—the highly stylized dance that evolved from the ball scene—to the world with her chart-topping hit. But it would be nearly two decades before the FX series Pose, which takes place in the New York ball scene of the 1980s and 1990s, put the culture front and center for a new generation. 

St. Louis enjoys a vibrant and long-running scene, and two St. Louis natives are featured on the second season of The CW and Amazon Prime’s The Kiki Show this month. East St. Louis native Toni Bryce, a Black woman of trans experience who is an actress, creative, and activist, is back to judge for a second season. Pine Lawn native Maven Lee is a cast member. 

Kiki is a playful, more youth-oriented twist on ballroom that started in New York City in 2004. The differences between ballroom and kiki are subtle, but kiki makes greater allowances for experimentation.

“It depends on the city,” Lee explains. “Here in St. Louis, our kiki scene is more like a practice for our mainstream ball scene, almost like our practice facility. It’s fun, it’s a teaching moment, it’s competitive, it’s creative, and it’s not so serious. As opposed to others cities where kiki can be just as big if not bigger than mainstream balls, in St. Louis our scenes are very much intertwined. Balls in general are high-energy, lots of chants, foot stomps, claps, and snaps—at least at a good ball,” he says, laughing.

“In ballroom, pleasing people is the objective,” Lee continues. “It’s about winning. I wanna win. I wanna show the judges and give them life, but I also want to have fun.”

One is expected to build and maintain a reputation in ballroom. If you’re known as femme, for example, judges would call you out for walking in a masculine category. Kiki offers more room to switch things up.

Bryce, fresh off her role on the Starz drama P-Valley, says The Kiki Show goes beyond the competition and sheds light on the lives of those within the community, telling their stories and how they were led to the scene. “It’s providing opportunities for us to work and get paid for telling our stories and showing our talents,” she says.

“The show is a bit of a blend of things,” adds Lee. “It feels like a documentary at times. It is also a competition series, and it gets real, just like a reality show. We expand on different folks’ paths. For instance, I talk about my nonprofit work and artistry outside of ballroom. Toni talks about her acting.”

For Lee and Bryce, who lived in underprivileged areas during their youth, violence and crime were everywhere. Simply making it to adulthood is among Bryce’s proudest achievements. “My brother was shot in the face, my uncle was killed in East St. Louis, I was held at gunpoint in high school…” Bryce says, “and even my grandma was shot in her stomach during a drive-by in Cahokia last January.”

Bryce says she feels a hometown kinship with Lee, who used to frequent the same East Side nightclubs, including the G-Spot. “Me and Maven didn’t really know one another back then,” says Bryce, “but I see him now, 10 years later, and think how we’re both from St. Louis and survived, reached adulthood, and thrived.”

Lee is eager to enrich the culture, using his connections to build upon the work already being done by bringing additional resources to the ballroom and kiki communities. “I want to connect our scene with better venues, new sponsors, and more safe spaces,” he says. 

Chris Andoe’s new book, House of Villadiva, has more on the local ballroom scene.

Ball Games

Tap into the local ballroom scene with Kiki Fridays in The Grove. 

In ballroom, a “house” is akin to a family and a team. The House of Ebony is among the largest, most prominent houses, and the mother of the St. Louis chapter is Caelyn Carter, better known as Spirit Ebony. Just 24 years old, he’s the youngest mother on the scene. Since first sneaking out to attend balls at age 16, Spirit Ebony has become nationally known, winning balls in Atlanta, Dallas, Los Angeles, Miami, and New York. His motherly role dovetails with his day job as an HIV prevention specialist at Project Stop. “I’m blessed to be able to help people for a living,” he says. Today, Spirit Ebony no longer competes on the local scene, instead preferring to develop talent in those he’s mentoring and shine a light on them. “I’m not the only star,” he says. “The sky is full of stars, and I love it.” 

Project Stop hosts Kiki Fridays 7–11 p.m. each Friday at 4306 Manchester.