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[title]Like most people who tumbled into the glitter-slicked rabbit hole of drag, my gateway was RuPaul’s Drag Race. The show was camp, chaotic and, occasionally, cathartic – and while I adored the performances, what I craved was context. That’s when Yellow Channel found me. Somewhere between a critique and a love letter, the channel offered commentary that felt neither detached nor indulgent. It was opinion with eyeliner – sharp, unblinking and occasionally smudged.
Now, I’m staring at the face behind it – Pat (Phatthara Lertsukittipongsa) – via video call, framed by a glittery backdrop that feels more like a curtain call than a coincidence. He’s not just the creator of Yellow Channel. He’s also the mind behind Thailand’s Drag Star, a platform that’s bringing together performers from every corner of the country. Not just the Bangkok icons, but the dreamers from Chantaburi, the showgirls from Nakhon Si Thammarat, the misfits from every corner of Google Maps.
Over the course of our conversation, we talk drag as transformation, Bangkok’s unpredictable scene and what makes a truly fabulous night. I also find out what, in his opinion, makes Time Out the best recommendation in town – but that secret’s staying tucked away until the final paragraph. If you’re ready, wig first, read on.
How Pat got pulled into drag (without even realising)
‘I used to think RuPaul in drag and RuPaul out of drag were two different people,’ Pat admits with a grin. ‘I didn’t get it at first – it felt like magic I couldn’t explain.’
Roughly a decade ago, he was just another curious viewer of the early Drag Race seasons, unsure how wigs, heels and confessional couch banter fit together. But like many, the confusion gave way to awe.
‘It was the transformation that got me. Not just the makeup, but the fact that you could use your whole body as a canvas. It’s all kinds of art – performance, costume, design – layered into one.’
Still, understanding drag from a screen and living it in the real world are different things. The learning came slowly, sometimes clumsily, over years of trial, error and many nights of makeup that didn’t quite blend, but the curiosity never left.
“I wasn’t trying to become a queen, I just kept being drawn to what drag could do.”
Before the spotlight, there was design
Before there was Yellow Channel, there was just Pat. He studied industrial design, the kind of degree that sounds sensible on paper and feels slippery in practice. But he always found ways to fold creativity into every project – usually with a subtle wink to the queer community.
‘I was working in the creative scene, running my own company,’ he explains. ‘At that time, drag was maybe 30 percent of my life. Now it’s more like 80 percent.’
He talks about production with a kind of technical glee, but the subtext is always community. Everything he did, even the commercial stuff, circled back to queer spaces – either overtly or in spirit. The drag came after-hours, but it never felt separate. Just unfinished business.
‘It started as a hobby. But it kept creeping into everything else,’ he shrugs.
Yellow Channel wasn’t born from a desire to perform, but from a need to create. The persona grew alongside his real-world work – until one day, the two merged.
“Drag gave me something corporate life never did: freedom. Not just creative freedom, but the freedom to be political, funny, messy.”
Thailand’s Drag Star and the politics of platform
If Drag Race sparked the idea, then Thailand’s Drag Star was the local answer. Launched with the ambition to bring visibility to drag communities outside Bangkok, the show is both competition and cultural documentation – drag as grassroots cartography.
‘We always talk about how big the Thai drag scene is,’ Pat explains, ‘but what we really mean is Bangkok. Meanwhile, there are queens in Pattaya, Ayutthaya, Chanthaburi, even Nakhon Si Thammarat, all doing amazing things – but to work, they have to move here.’
So he asked: what if they didn’t?
Thailand’s Drag Star doesn’t just centralise Bangkok. It widens the lens. The name itself is telling. ‘I used ‘star’ instead of ‘queen’ on purpose,’ he says.
“Queen has gender baggage. But star? Anyone can be a star. Gay, straight, trans – it doesn’t matter.”
With every year, the stage pushes further – collaborating with government bodies, festivals, grassroots organisers, even educational platforms. It’s drag, yes. But it’s also social infrastructure.
Reading the Bangkok drag scene like a mixtape
If you ask Pat to summarise Bangkok’s drag scene, he won’t give you a paragraph. He’ll give you a playlist.
‘It’s four songs,’ he tells me. ‘First: ‘Dream On’ by Aerosmith. That’s the beginning – when people hoped, imagined, reached. Then, ‘Born This Way’ by Lady Gaga. The anthem. The middle finger to the world.’
He pauses before continuing: ‘Next is ‘Pink Pony Club’ by Chappell Roan. It captures the new energy – playful, rebellious, glitter-fuelled. And then there’s a Thai song: ‘History’ by Christina Aguilar. Even though it’s old, the lyrics still resonate with every generation of the community.’
Add on to that, he’s proud of the new generation – their makeup, their confidence, their defiance – but he’s also cautious.
“They look incredible. Tens across the board. But the hardest part isn’t the makeup. It’s figuring out who ‘you’ are in all of it. That takes time.”
Pat sees a scene that’s expanding not just in size, but in self-awareness. The young queens are hungry – but they’re also asking bigger questions. Who am I performing for? What do I stand for? What does drag ‘mean’ in Thai culture?
How to do bangkok drag (and survive the night)
When asked how to do drag night in Bangkok properly, Pat doesn’t hesitate. ‘Start at House of Heals,’ he says. ‘There’s a stage, real lighting – it’s where drag becomes theatre.’
Then: Silom Soi 4, the city’s most colourful artery. ‘First, Silver Sand. It’s where the younger drags experiment. Then head to Circus Soi 4 – classic drag, the kind that reminds you where it all began.’
Finally, wind up at Stranger Bar. ‘It’s the best of all worlds. Everyone’s there – old, new, local, foreign. It’s the place where strangers become part of the same story.’
That story is no longer a side act. Thanks to performers like Yellow Channel, Thai drag is no longer asking for space. It’s taking it – on stage, online, across provinces.
Becoming Yellow
The thing about Pat – whether he’s speaking on screen, typing under Yellow Channel, or emceeing the next Drag Star showcase – is that he doesn’t separate the glamour from the politics. For him, drag isn’t the escape. It’s the confrontation.
And while the rest of the world plays catch-up, Thailand’s drag scene is writing its own script – one that’s less about Western imitation and more about local reinvention. At the heart of it? A person with a design degree, a glittery backdrop and a relentless desire to connect every performer who’s ever dreamed of more.
“People think drag is fantasy. But it’s one of the most honest things you can do. You have to know yourself to wear that much truth.”
So yes, Time Out might call it the best recommendation in town – but don’t take our word for it. Go see the starlight for yourself.
And Yellow? That’s the colour he shines best.