Performer and drag entertainer Jinkx Monsoon has built an impressive career since her time on RuPaul’s Drag Race. After two record-breaking runs in Chicago, she took on the lead role of Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors and recently made her Broadway debut in Pirates! The Penzance Musical, a New Orleans-inspired reimagining of the classic Gilbert and Sullivan operetta.
Playing the scene-stealing role of Ruth, the love-struck housemaid, was a surprise for Monsoon (whose offstage name is Hera Hoffer) but a well-deserved one. During her rise in New York theater, she caught the attention of Scott Ellis, artistic director of Roundabout Theatre Company, which produces Pirates!. Though initially confused by his idea for the revival, she trusted her gut—a decision she says has rarely steered her wrong.
And it paid off: She thrived in rehearsals, where Ellis encouraged her to follow her instincts—influenced by her love of Lucille Ball and Judy Garland.
“Sometimes, as a marginalized performer entering a space with such legacy, it’s easy to feel like an outsider or have imposter syndrome—to think, ‘I’m a drag queen, I’m a comedian, what am I doing in a Broadway show?’ That kind of doubt creeps in,” she says. “The antidote is working with people who assure you they trust you. Ruth is shaped by my choices, but also by the writer, music director, choreographer, and director. And I couldn’t ask for better co-stars.”
Monsoon shares the stage with Broadway veterans David Hyde Pierce and Ramin Karimloo. She and Karimloo bonded quickly, thanks to their mutual friend Michelle Visage (Drag Race host and Karimloo’s Addams Family co-star in London). “Ramin walked up to me on day one and said, ‘I’m Ramin, Michelle loves you, so I love you.’ And that was that. Plus, the three of us are Virgos—September 18, 19, and 20!”
Ahead of opening night, Monsoon spoke with Vogue about her journey to this unconventional operetta, lessons from past reviews, and how she balances her onstage persona (Jinkx) with her personal life (Hera) as she begins her transition.
Vogue: What was your relationship with Gilbert and Sullivan before Pirates!?
Jinkx Monsoon: I’m not a die-hard fan, but as someone in musical theater, I know their work and its impact. I never expected to be in a Gilbert and Sullivan show, but I’d never say no—I love a challenge. What excites me is this version’s blues and jazz twist, with a Creole-Louisiana influence. It lets me engage with the material in a way that suits my strengths. It’s a perfect mix of respect and reinvention—nothing’s done carelessly.
Vogue: Their work has a distinct style. How have you adapted to it?
Jinkx Monsoon: People have told me I have a knack for taking classic, old-school performance styles and making them feel fresh. Look at my past roles—Mama Morton in Chicago (very vaudeville) or Audrey in Little Shop (an ingenue with a character actress edge). I’ve found ways to bridge the past and present.I love drawing inspiration from past eras and incorporating it into my work as a modern performer. Those who recognize the references appreciate them, and those who don’t sometimes look them up and realize, Oh wow, she was referencing something from a hundred years ago. That’s deep.
Photo: Mettie Ostrowski
I love how you began that answer—it reminds me of Barbra Streisand’s memoir, where she’d include a glowing review from The New York Times and be surprised by the praise.
I’m not trying to sound self-absorbed, but I’ve actually learned a lot about my craft from reading reviews. Sometimes I can’t pinpoint why an audience reacts a certain way, but when a reviewer articulates it perfectly, it clicks. Then I can lean into that even more. I know reading reviews is risky—maybe I shouldn’t do it—but when someone truly gets what I was going for, it’s incredibly rewarding.
With Drag Race, you entered one of the most scrutinized spaces imaginable, so it’s no surprise you’ve had to develop ways to handle criticism.
I also went to art school—Cornish College in Seattle—where critique and feedback were a huge part of the process. Once, during an argument with a friend, I snapped, We all have bad days at work—mine just sometimes happen in front of an audience and end up in the papers. At the time, I was struggling with the reality that not everything I create will land perfectly. You have to learn from that. If you only surround yourself with “yes” people who never give honest feedback, you lose touch. That’s how artists fade—they stop listening when something isn’t working.
As you reach bigger audiences, do you feel pressure to uphold “Jinkx”? For example, you’re not performing here as Hera. I’m curious about the relationship between your persona, your personality, your name, and your stage identity. How do you stay grounded?
For a long time, I wrestled with that question, and I still don’t have a perfect answer. What I’ve realized is that Jinkx used to be just a persona I’d put on and leave onstage. Now, she’s more of an extension of me. I have other characters who don’t inhabit me the way Jinkx does. She’s my Super Saiyan, my Megazord—she’s me at full power, with the wig, makeup, corset, and heels. Now that I’m transitioning and presenting feminine in my daily life, Jinkx isn’t just the accessories; she’s the full transformation, like Sailor Moon ready for battle.
Choosing a new private name—and building a private self I actually enjoy being—helped me feel grounded again. I used to hate hearing my birth name (Jerick) or male pronouns—it made me want to be Jinkx all the time. But Jinkx isn’t sustainable 24/7. Creating a private identity I love was a gift to myself. Still, Jinkx and I are the same person—she’s my stage name.
I love that I chose a persona for the world to meet, and I won’t change my stage name. It’s a drag name I gave myself while performing in Portland dive bars, and now it’s in The New York Times. I created her—I’m not giving that up.For a moment, I wondered if I should go by Hera full-time since I love the name—maybe even become an actress named Hera Hoffer. But then I thought, No, you created Jinkx for this purpose. Let her do this.
Recently, someone sent me a screenshot of you-know-who passing yet another anti-trans order, and right below it, the same newsfeed read: “Jinkx Monsoon sells out Carnegie Hall.” They have to see that side by side—despite what this person is doing, we keep going. We always have, and we always will. I like to remind people that we’re here, no matter what.
Photo: Mettie Ostrowski
It feels like the bond between drag and musical theater is growing stronger. Queens have always idolized Judy, Angela, Liza, etc., but now, you’ve got me doing all these shows, Marcia Marcia Marcia in Cabaret, Orville Peck—who I see as always doing a version of drag—also in Cabaret. Do you think that connection is changing?
I think we’re just noticing and celebrating it differently now. Drag and theater have always been intertwined. Chicago has been running for nearly 30 years, and there’s always been a Mary Sunshine, right? Varla Jean Merman [who played that role] was doing drag on Broadway long before me or any of us. The term “female impersonator” comes from vaudeville, and “drag” dates back to Shakespeare when women weren’t allowed to act. It’s not revolutionary—what is revolutionary is that we’re celebrating it now, not treating it like a novelty or some “Wow, look at that drag queen succeeding!” moment.
More people are calling me an actress with a drag career, or some variation of that. And I don’t need it—you can call me a drag queen, I know who I am. I am a drag queen, and I am an actress. Call me both, call me either, it doesn’t change the work I do because I’ve always been doing it. What’s amazing is this queer renaissance happening in pop culture right now—but it’s also terrifying. You mentioned Orville in Cabaret, and it does feel like Act One. It’s like we’re throwing a party because we know it’s under threat, so we’re partying harder while we can. But some of history’s most powerful art was born from adversity. I think we’re seeing a lot of that now, and I’m so grateful and honored to be part of it.
This conversation has been edited and condensed.