BLUE XMAS WITH A SPLASH OF PURPLE LEMONADE

By the time I arrived at the Clock-Out Lounge for the Blue Xmas matinee on December 21—winter solstice, no less—I had one pressing question: why is she blue? By the end of the show, I understood why. Betty Wetter (the Seattle based drag queen persona of performer Scotty Cayton) is blue because she chooses to be: blue like winter sadness, blue like body paint (yes the Blue Man group bit from Arrested Development comes to mind), but mostly “blue” as in something a bit shocking in the “slightly indecent and sexually suggestive” way. Blue, in this context, also meaning a bit defiant of the commodification of the season. Blue + Xmas together as a refusal to simply gloss over the holidays with tinsel and chain store receipts. This is drag as seasonal affective truth-telling, with sparkle hands. And legs and more — thanks to featured dance crew Purple Lemonade.

For the uninitiated (hi, it’s me! I’m a regular at Betty Wetter’s long running monthly drag show extravaganza, TUSH, but this is the first time I…Blue Xmas’d myself?) Blue Xmas is an annual holiday tradition, a cabaret-style drag show that treats Christmas less as sacred cow and more as emotional landfill to be lovingly picked through with friends. Wetter—Seattle Gay News’ favorite drag queen 2025  (she’s not shy about reminding us)—has built a reputation as a very funny and charismatic performer whose work sits at the intersection of camp, community care, and sharp cultural critique. She’s anti-capitalist and pro-kleptomania (jokingly, but also…not. The show kicked off with a bit about shoplifting for gifts). Throughout it all she is unwavering in her insistence that the holidays are a great reminder to take care of ourselves and each other.

The show’s structure is loose in the way a raunchy cabaret should be: part stand-up, part lip sync revue, part group therapy. A live pianist underscored much of the performance, giving Wetter the chance to really sing for us. Her voice is kind, buttery and sincere, quite the gift to hear a lip sync professional sing and serve up more of their talents then we might usually get to see. The standout moment came during Joni Mitchell’s “River,” she sang as archival footage of Olympic figure skater Oksana Baiul played behind her. Wetter shared how Baiul’s gold-medal performance once cracked her open as a young queer kid, planting the seed of wanting to perform. Onstage, her movement—small reaches, a soft collapse through the shoulders—letting nostalgia do the heavy lifting. It was the Xmas blues, but sprinkled with golden glitter.

If Betty Wetter is the gravitational center, Purple Lemonade is the kinetic engine. The Seattle-based dance group functions as backup dancers, chorus, elves, demons, and general purveyors of holiday naughtiness. Their “Let It Go” number answered a question no one asked but everyone needed: what if christmas elves were balletic, horny, and unionized? They delivered clean kick lines, confident pirouettes, and just enough bump-and-grind to keep things spicy without tipping into parody. The most theatrical moment came when two of the dancers physically lifted Betty onto the stage from the audience, creating the illusion that she floated upward to the proscenium edge—a simple trick, beautifully timed, that landed like drag ascension.

Purple Lemonade’s strength isn’t just technique (though the butts were plentiful and well-deployed); it’s character. Ron Gatsby, in particular, committed fully to persona, later reappearing in Satan drag with a very crisp lip sync and gleeful menace. These dancers don’t just decorate Betty’s numbers; they deepen them, keeping the burlesque lineage alive while serving polished holiday backup dancer realness.

Betty herself is a performer with great presence. Her movement vocabulary is skilled without feeling precious—never over-rehearsed, always intentional. She has a way of carving campy space with her hands while lip syncing that recalls Liza Minnelli or Mariah Carey, but without the messiness of impersonation. Even in the filthiest moments—like her gleefully obscene rewrite of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”—the gesture work is so clear and rhythmically aligned that it reads as almost… wholesome. Moves suggesting fisting and rimming land like a comedic port a bras, the signs of a true comic.

Costume became choreography in a silver sequined gown with a dramatic leg slit, part of a story Betty shared about inheriting vintage clothing from a fan’s grandmother. The actual fan and their family were in the audience. Wetter was visibly moved, turning showing off her look into an intergenerational pas de deux. Her show banter became a way to tell an intimate story of support and let the audience join in on the dance of gratitude for chosen family. In the finale, Wetter upped the ante in a neon green pop diva inspired fantasy, ripping off the front of the dress to reveal fake blue boobs with green tassels to match the rest, twirled with ecstatic abandon as Purple Lemonade backed her in choir robes for a very spicy “Auld Lang Syne.”

Between numbers, Betty oscillated between snark and sincerity with practiced ease. She encouraged audience members to “go home for christmas and ruin it,” offered survival tips for closeted queers navigating conservative families (“Stay in the closet, pretend to be straight  and loud whisper ‘socialist’ whenever someone mentions Jesus or Santa”), and spoke candidly about depression, estrangement, and the joy of discovering her new neighbors are lesbians and have the same holiday lights up in the yard. Gratitude mixed with concern, sarcasm softened by care. I understand why Betty “Blue” Herself. It’s how Betty Wetter and her collaborators process the darkness, mark the light returning, and invite us all to get through it together.

https://clockoutlounge.com/event/clock-out-lounge-presents-blue-xmas-with-hostess-betty-wetter-4/