When she was told she’d be gracing our Spirituality issue, Tupperware queen Dixie Longate replied, “Well that’s weird, because I’ve been performing this week in an abandoned church in Washington State.”
At first glance, it may seem odd to draw a comparison between a colorful drag performer—who is also one of the nation’s top Tupperware salespersons—and spirituality. However, witness one performance, and you’ll be a convert. Dixie employs an apostolic glee in her hilarious send-up of old-time Tupperware parties.
In 2001, the sweet but trashy Dixie (and her alternate personality Kris Andersson) staved off destitution by hocking the famous farting food storage devices. Her drunken, debauched shows are loaded with double entendres. In 2004, Dixie won the Best Individual Artist prize at the New York Fringe Festival. In 2007, she was nominated for a New York Drama Desk Award. Dixie now travels all over the country, telling her sordid stories and selling her wares. She’ll be performing at Ruth Eckerd Hall’s Murray Studio Theater in Clearwater from March 30 to Apr. 3. Watermark will host a special pre- and post-party with Dixie on Thursday, April 1, complete with a cash bar and finger foods.
Anyone who purchases a ticket to be on the guest list for the party should mention this newspaper and $2 per ticket will go to support Metro Charities. In addition, a portion of Tupperware sales that night go to the HIV/AIDS organization.
In a phone interview about spirituality, the down-and-dirty Dixie dove in with Pentecostal glee.
DIXIE: Everything runs together when you drink. Where am I? Oh, right now I’m in Yakima, Wash., which is really something. It’s a little crazy, because the theater that they have here is being remodeled, so they moved us into an old, abandoned Christian Science church. I don’t know what happened there; everybody moved out or fled or something. I’ve been calling it The Church of Dixie.
WATERMARK: What’s spiritual about Tupperware?
Lord, you know, it’s the best crap on the planet! This is the thing: most stuff that you get, you don’t have a connection to. Every time you use one of my Tupperware, you’re going to remember the party, the host and the other people there. So, you have a bit of connection you don’t have with other things. That’s why you see these little old ladies who’ve had their Tupperware for 50 or 60 years, and they covet it. They write their names on it in Magic Marker, so that you don’t take it from the church social when you’re done.
What’s your spiritual background?
I was raised Christian, but being Southern, there’s a couple ways to go. You could be a crazy-crazy Christian, like a snake-handling Christian, or you could be a regular Christian. The message in the Bible was Jesus saying, “I’m making wine here, everybody, so get out your tumblers and start throwing it back!” I’m from that school of thought.
Why did you personally connect to Tupperware?
Oh my stars! I think I felt a connection because it’s something you can store your big thick meat in. You know, before you throw it on the barbeque.
What do you say to people who criticize Tupperware for being damaging to the planet?
I don’t buy that. Scientists create all these things that make our lives better, and then a few years later, we all start poo-pooing their inventions. I call Tupperware plastic crap, but its high-quality plastic crap. The nice thing about Tupperware is that you buy a piece, and you keep it for life. The whole disposable mentality goes beyond throwing stuff away, it also goes to people. If you always think everything’s disposable, you start treating people like they’re disposable.
Is all that alcohol store-bought?
I’m from the South. Really, there are just some things that you need to make in a bathtub. Then you go on and funnel it into an old jug so you can drink it on a Sunday after church. On tour, I get store-bought. It’s just too hard to make stuff in hotel bathrooms.
So, we’ve gone from spirituality to spirits?
Well, that works for the article!
The people in Florida love you.
Well, I love them, too. You know, the Tupperware headquarters are there south of Orlando. I just think there’s this natural vibration that emanates out from that headquarters to all the Floridians, mystically connecting their souls to Tupperware.