Miss Moço isn’t just a brunch queen — she’s Toronto’s queen of brunch.
Take it from the 200+ people who come to see her show every Saturday at the Drake Hotel.
Earlier this month, I was one of them. Before the first show starts, the room is subdued — it’s 10 a.m., after all. Miss Moço — in 6-inch heels — introduces herself to customers while they enjoy mimosas and blueberry scones. One woman is here to see her first drag show with her adult son. Another group, two wives-to-be and their wedding party, are dressed in nautical attire, much to Miss Moço’s amusement. “The straight bachelorettes wear sashes, the lesbians wear sailors hats,” she quips.
At 10:30, the show begins. Miss Moço struts around the room as servers expertly swerve past her, carrying plates of French Toast and Eggs Benedict. After three songs, Miss Moço hands the spotlight over to her guest of the week, local drag legend Tynomi Banks, who performs two high-energy numbers. Miss Moço re-emerges in a sparkling sapphire dress and slicked-back ponytail to lip-sync a set of power ballads, including two signature Céline Dion numbers. The final set includes an iconic wig reveal and an epic six-minute “Bohemian Rhapsody” performance. Moço closes out the show by jumping into the arms of five men at the climax of the song. The crowd goes wild.
By the time the performance is over, Miss Moço has done three outfit changes, but the crowd has undergone a transformation as well. The same people timidly handing her $5 bills over pancakes are now gleefully sliding $20s into her sequined undergarments. What happened?
Miss Moço has a theory: “I think when people get to see these otherworldly beings living so authentically and having the best time of their lives, it gives them that freedom to let loose a little bit.”
Miss Moço experienced that for herself when she got into drag in 2015, the year she moved from Toronto to Portugal. Although the drag community in Lisbon was relatively small, being in a drag vacuum didn’t hinder her. In fact, she says, it allowed her to find her voice as an artist and create something of her own. She started “Drag Race” viewing parties at a local bar and eventually establishing a drag pageant called Ms. Lisboa.
“That (experience) really shaped me when I moved back,” says Miss Moço. “I did it in a foreign country. I can do it in my own city.”
When Miss Moço returned to Toronto in 2018, she felt emboldened. In the years since, she’s carved out her own space in the queer cultural hub of Queen West by perfecting the art of the drag brunch.
Unlike a typical club setting, drag brunches happen in the light of day, with a seated sober audience (until the mimosas start flowing, that is). As a result, the performer has total command of the room. That can be daunting, but it also allows for a more intimate experience, like the kind Miss Moço has been creating at the Drake since 2022.
Her drag brunch is polished to a sheen: the order of the songs, the costume changes, the timing of the drama and the big laughs. The fact that the show is down to a science and yet feels special each time goes beyond the performance itself: every detail, from the self-made promo posters down to the Moço-Go-To signature cocktail, is part of the experience.
Miss Moço might not do the splits or death drops, but her talent is even more impressive: an ability to connect with people. It’s something that she’s cultivated since her pre-drag career as a portrait photographer.
“You have to make people comfortable, because having your photo taken is a very vulnerable thing,” she says. People can be initially uncomfortable in a drag setting: “That’s why I go around and speak to everyone.”
She doesn’t just speak to them; she remembers their names and their stories. At times, she even invites them into the performance.
As Tynomi Banks puts it, “She creates a safe space that people want to come back to.”
Amid DEI pushback and anti-LGBTQ legislation in the U.S., these safe spaces feel particularly important. Pride month is often the most lucrative time for drag queens; with big companies pulling out of Pride, Miss Moço says it’s crucial to support local drag.
“By going to local shows, you’re not only supporting artists and their livelihoods, you’re also supporting the local bars, which, especially for queer bars, struggle to stay afloat.”
Over the past decade, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” — now in its seventeenth season — has changed the nature of drag. As the artform has entered the mainstream, the industry has exploded in size. Often, the queens on the current season get lots of bookings while the show airs, but find it difficult to achieve sustained success in a saturated market. Miss Moço was on “Canada’s Drag Race” season 3, but she’s building her career differently.
“A TV show is so fleeting” she says. “If you want to be successful, you have to create a community.”
