Drag Show Etiquette: How to Behave at London's Best Queer Cabaret Nights

When you walk into a drag show, a live performance where artists use costume, makeup, and charisma to challenge gender norms and entertain audiences. Also known as queer cabaret, it's more than just entertainment—it's a cultural space built on bold self-expression and community trust. This isn’t a Broadway musical where you sit quietly. This is a room full of people who’ve fought to be seen, heard, and celebrated—and how you act matters.

Good drag show etiquette, the unwritten code of respect and engagement that keeps these spaces safe and electric starts before you even buy a ticket. Don’t show up drunk. Not because the staff is strict, but because drag performers read the room. If you’re slurring your words or yelling over the music, you’re not just being rude—you’re stealing the spotlight from someone who spent hours crafting their moment. And that’s not okay. Tip well. A £5 bill tucked into a boot or tossed gently onto the stage says more than any Instagram post ever could. It tells the performer you saw them, you felt it, and you’re grateful.

Don’t touch. No grabbing wigs, no pulling on feathers, no hugging without asking. These are costumes, not props. A wig might cost more than your rent. A sequin might be glued on for 12 hours straight. And that glitter? It’s not just sparkles—it’s armor. If you want to take a photo, wait for the right moment. Don’t block the view. Don’t flash your phone in someone’s face during a slow ballad. The best shots happen when the room is still, and the performer owns the silence.

And don’t confuse queer cabaret, a genre of performance art rooted in LGBTQ+ history, often blending drag, comedy, and live music with a theme night at a corporate bar. These aren’t costumes for Halloween. These are identities on stage. Don’t ask, "Are you a man or a woman?" Don’t say, "You’re so pretty for a guy." Don’t assume the performer’s pronouns. Just say their stage name and smile. If you’re not sure what to do, follow the crowd. If everyone’s clapping, clap. If they’re cheering, yell back. If they drop a line and the room laughs—you laugh too. That’s the rhythm.

London’s drag scene isn’t just about glitter and lip-syncs. It’s in Soho basements where queens turn protest into poetry. It’s in East London warehouses where non-binary performers remix pop songs into anthems of survival. It’s in venues where the bouncer checks IDs but also checks if you’re there to support or to gawk. The best nights don’t end when the music stops—they end when you leave with more respect than you came in with.

What you’ll find below isn’t just a list of shows. It’s a guide to the places where drag isn’t a spectacle—it’s a sacred exchange. You’ll learn where to go for the wildest performances, which venues treat performers like family, and how to spot a space that’s truly inclusive—not just trendy. No fluff. No tourist traps. Just the real rules, the real spots, and the real people who keep this scene alive.