Morningstarr is a prominent performer in Iceland’s queer and drag scene. Originally from Mexico, she has lived in various places, including the Faroe Islands, before finding a home in Iceland. Her experiences across different cultures shape both her art and her identity. She is also part of Family Portrait, a photo documentary project by yours truly, Magdalena Lukasiak, that explores chosen family and the queer community in Iceland. In a conversation with the star, Morningstarr shares her journey, challenges, and hopes for the future of drag.
Magdalena: How would you describe the Icelandic queer and drag scene?
Morningstarr: “It’s small but powerful—intimate, experimental, and constantly pushing boundaries. When I first arrived, I was struck by how performance art and gender expression merged into something bold, weird, and sometimes even aggressive. Unlike in larger drag communities where certain styles dominate, Iceland’s drag scene feels more like a movement than just entertainment. There’s a strong sense of camaraderie, but also room for individuality—space to challenge what drag can be.”
This scene doesn’t just talk about inclusivity—it practices it.
Magdalena: What makes it unique compared to other drag communities?
Morningstarr: “Its inclusivity. While many places remain dominated by traditional drag queens, Iceland has long embraced drag kings, bio queens, and performers of all gender expressions. This scene doesn’t just talk about inclusivity—it practices it. I’ve attended shows featuring only bio queens and drag kings, which brings fresh perspectives to the stage and challenges binary notions of what drag “should be”.
Despite its small size, the community is built on support. Yes, competition exists, but performers still uplift one another, recognizing that they are all contributing to something bigger. It’s not perfect, but that solidarity has kept the scene alive and evolving—at least, that was the case five years ago.”
From bartending to Drag
Magdalena: You didn’t start out as a drag artist. How did you transition into the world of drag?
Morningstarr: “I started out as a bartender—a mixologist, really, which is like being a chef but for drinks. I did that for years, working events, running bars, and eventually moving into event planning. I loved it, but then COVID hit, and everything crumbled. With no events to organize and no bars to mix in, I turned my focus entirely to drag.
For the first time, I had space to fully dive in, experiment, and grow as a performer. Drag became my world. But reality caught up—drag is unpredictable, and I needed stability. Thankfully, my boyfriend had a full-time job and supported me, but I knew I had to find work again. So, I returned to bartending. I’m good at it, I enjoy it, but deep down, I was hoping for something else—event planning, full-time drag, or something in between. Now, that is the life I live.”
Mexico gave me my first taste of life experience and a glimpse of what drag is. Iceland made me an artist.
The Escape and finding Drag in Iceland
Magdalena: You mentioned moving around a lot. How did you end up in Iceland?
Morningstarr: “I never planned to come to Iceland. It was simply the easiest escape from the Faroe Islands, where I had been living for two years. But once I got here, something happened. One night, I walked into a drag show, expecting the usual—impersonations, lip-syncs, the same old thing. Instead, I saw something completely different. Comedy skits, aggressive music, avant-garde performances—it was drag as I had never seen before.
One performer stood out to me the most: Deff Starr. She wasn’t traditionally feminine—she was muscular, gender-bending, powerful. She looked like a witch. I was fascinated. That performer became my drag mother. She saw something in me and said, “You should try this”.
At first, I wasn’t sure. But she insisted. And so, Morningstarr was born.”
The Bitch, The Legend, The Light
Magdalena: Your drag name has an interesting story behind it. Can you tell me about it?
Morningstarr: “The name came instantly. My drag mother, Deff Starr, told me that all her drag daughters had to take “Starr” as a last name. As soon as she said it, I knew: Morningstarr. We both thought of it at the same time. It was meant to be.
The name is layered. Morningstarr is the first name given to the devil in the Bible, but it’s also Venus—the brightest celestial body at dawn and twilight. It represents femininity and power, light in the darkest moments. That’s what I wanted Morningstarr to be.
But beyond that, drag allowed me to piece together parts of myself I didn’t know existed. It gave me the confidence to hold a microphone, command a room, and push creative boundaries I never thought possible. It even helped me reclaim lost dreams—I always wanted to dance as a child but never dared to ask. Now, on stage, I dance, I perform, I own my space. And I push myself. Every time.”
Dreams for the Future
Magdalena: Looking back, do you ever regret leaving Mexico?
Morningstarr: “No. I miss parts of it—the food, my friends, the language. But regret? Never. I left to find my own path, to step beyond the world I was born into. Every place I’ve lived has shown me a new version of myself. Mexico gave me my first taste of life experience and a glimpse of what drag is. Iceland made me an artist. How could I regret that?”
Magdalena: What’s next for Morningstarr?
Morningstarr: “I want to keep pushing what drag can be. Bigger shows, more collaborations with artists from different fields. I dream of creating a show that blends drag, burlesque, freak show elements, dance, and live music—something raw, dark, and magical, almost apocalyptic. Beyond that, I want to travel with my art, to bring Morningstarr back to Mexico and other countries. That would be both exhilarating and humbling. My goal is to be a bridge between different drag scenes, igniting new flames in spaces where people have never seen drag before.”
Support your local queens, not just when they entertain you, but when they speak up.
Magdalena: Finally, what can we wish for you?
Morningstarr: “Wish for me to never get comfortable. To keep being hungry, messy, and unapologetic. Wish for more magic—on stage, off stage, everywhere. And if you really want to do something for me, learn the history of drag. Support your local queens, not just when they entertain you, but when they speak up.”
Main photo: Photo / Magdalena Lukasiak