At her core, a drag queen represents an amalgamation of many artistic facets coming together to create a persona. Wig, costume, and makeup design are the most obvious aspects that coalesce to build a drag queen, but there’s so much more. Dan Polyak has made a name for himself as the go-to graphic designer that queens seek out for their visual branding. Logos, merch, and general art direction are Polyak’s bread and butter, and he’s created the brand suites for some of the most famous drag stars working today.
“To be able to work with some of the biggest names in drag, I don’t take that for granted,” Polyak told me recently as I interviewed him about his journey. “It’s awesome that these people trusted me. I’m very grateful that it’s led to way more opportunity in my career.”
The rest of our conversation is transcribed below.
(This conversation has been edited for clarity and length.)
Take me back to the start of your creative journey— how did you first get sucked into the world of graphic design and branding?
I got into design naturally, being a child of the ‘90s and experiencing computer culture. My dad had a computer at our house, so I spent time playing around and learning a program that I think was called “PaintShop Pro,” it wasn’t even an Adobe program. It was like an elevated version of MS Paint.
I was also a fan of WWF and wrestling, and that evolved into music later on in life; I became a fan of punk and pop punk music. Those things really inspired me because WWF wrestling and pop divas all have these really defined personalities; everyone had their aesthetic, their own characteristics, whatever defined who they were as artists. That definitely left some form of an imprint on me.
I naturally fell into working with pop punk bands through going to shows as a kid in Chicago. I started freelancing for bands like Fallout Boy, Cobra Starship, and Taking Back Sunday, just by being a fan, meeting them after shows, and saying, “Look what I put together on my T-Mobile Sidekick…” I got support from people I respected early on in my career, and that encouraged me to really pursue design seriously.
When I finished high school, I started my undergrad at Columbia College in Chicago with a BFA in Art and Design with a focus in printmaking and advertising art. I was screenprinting a lot of gig posters, which was a big thing for me through undergrad and afterward. I worked at a concert venue and smart bar here in Chicago called The Metro Smart Bar, they’re a renowned independent venue; smart bars were the birthplace of house music. Working there challenged me to develop more aesthetics outside of just pop punk music; I was working with indie bands, up-and-coming rappers, house music, and electronic. Every form of musician came through that venue. I worked with bands like Jane’s Addiction and Foo Fighters, but also Chance the Rapper when he was still really new. Being at an independent venue, I was the one creating this aesthetic. When I became the Art Director, I was in charge of all of these residencies, themed nights, and all of that fun stuff.
How did the drag world weave itself into this journey?
One of the popular weekly residencies at The Metro on Sunday nights is called Queen— it’s still happening today. It’s an underground house and disco queer party; it’s not top 40 music at all, you’re not hearing any music with lyrics. What formed queer culture in the 80s and 90s, what those people were listening to, is what you get at this party. And an amazing thing about this party, is they also have drag queen hosts. The queens are there setting the vibe, turning looks, sometimes there’s a theme: Fine Art, Plastic Surgery Slumber Party, just really crazy avant garde ideas. Chicago is a big scene for Club Kids, which are kind of like less-polished drag queens, artsy, inspired by fashion, pop culture, underground, anime…
I was encouraged for years to go to Queen, and I avoided it because I wasn’t too deep in the queer community at that time. I was yearning for a community that I fit in with and connected more to, so I found Queen and the drag world and was able to make friends. Just being around those people, it’s a really inspiring community of creative queer people. It wasn’t this polished, pretty world, it was still really alternative and avant garde. Drag was still such a subculture that wasn’t taken on by America. It wasn’t the big conglomerate that it is now.
Honestly, I was really lucky to be in that time and place because it was when RuPaul’s Drag Race was really popping off in the 2016-2017 era, and queens I knew, like Kimchi, Trixie Mattel, and Pearl, were on the show. I wouldn’t say I was there from the beginning, but I was there when a certain group of queens really got acknowledged. To be able to be the person who was branding them and helping them figure out their design aesthetics was really cool.
I didn’t even realize until later on in my career that I really did create a platform that wasn’t there before. Drag queens didn’t have these strong brands, these identified logos that were carved out and unique. It was just like, This is what my manager chose… It’s cool to have such a strong hand in it.
It’s so nice to hear how organically your career as a designer developed. Everyone in every industry needs a graphic designer, and you’re able to offer that to the people you’re surrounded by in the spaces you’re naturally in.
I really didn’t realize what was happening, I honestly don’t think any of us did. I was really lucky to be friends with a lot of girls who were getting on Drag Race. I’ve tried to teach myself to not say lucky though, it’s more like, it was your destiny, you are really meant to be here with these people at this time in place and creating together. Through that, I’ve been able to create so many more connections because people have seen my work, and they trust what I can do. They’ve seen I really do want to create unique worlds for these girls.
What’s the collaborative flow typically like between you and a drag queen you’re working with?
I do a lot of research, looking back at certain girls’ design studies because a lot of these people’s drag is defined by who they are. Like Kimchi is an avant-garde Asian queen who takes inspiration from Anime, Trixie Mattel is very bubbly and Barbie, and Shea Couleé is this Beyonce-esque queen— so these queens already have these worlds defined for them, it’s just sometimes, visually, they don’t know how to create it themselves. It’s nice to have someone who’s creating a mood board for them, or showing them, Hey, this is the history of this sort of typeface or this style of drag that you’re doing.
Through designing at the concert venue and whatnot, I know a lot of design styles, so working with the queen I’m able to exercise that and show them what these worlds can be. I can help them have strong, unique brands because, at this point, there are so many Drag Race queens.
I’m guessing it can be an incredibly enriching collaborative process working with a client as inherently creative as a drag queen. Drag queens themselves are essentially personified brand worlds they’ve already created. What’s that been like for you and what challenges have you faced working with another artist in that way?
Every girl is truly different. Some people really know what they want. This is the style, these are my references, this is the inspiration. Plastique Tiara, for example, knew what she wanted: Anime-driven, fantasy, but still very pretty and gorgeous. Gottmik knew that she wanted something rock and roll, edgy, and punk rock, but it still had to be legible and could be put on a piece of merch. There are always challenges to work through when working with queens because they do have specific design styles that they want, but you still have to make things legible and it still has to be able to be used in so many different formats.
Then there are some queens who are like, I have no idea what I want, just put together some options for me! That’s such a big challenge because even just three key words are so helpful in designing a logo for someone. That makes it easier for me to do some research or sketching for my process. When someone is like, Just do your thing, I trust you! It’s a little scary. That’s when I go to the queen’s aesthetic and make some decisions for myself.
The girls are very opinionated, there are a lot of absolutes; I hate that, I love that and I’m like, Okay, let’s pull the critique back a little bit. Each girl is their own challenge. Over time, I’ve learned that, at times, I’m a design therapist. I know what these girls need, and they somewhat know what they need, so how do I get them there respectfully without pushing their ideas or opinions too much, but also being firm because I’m an artist myself, I’m a designer myself, I want this to be a piece in my portfolio too. Sometimes I have to challenge the girls to be a little more editorial or a little more refined and not throw every trick into the logo. Sometimes less was more, we don’t need to overcomplicate because, babe, you’re already a drag queen; the visual is there.
I’m lucky to work with people who are more artistically inclined, and who trust that a process will happen. We’re learning together, this is a process we’re working through. It’s a luxury I have compared to working with big corporate clients or these big firms or brands— they want results. They don’t care about the process.
Can you point to a particular project or design of yours that you’re particularly proud of?
That’s truly like choosing your favorite child! But I would say that a project I’ve worked on where I was like, Wow, this is so cool, is working with the Britney Spears brand. I’ve been working with them for a while, relaunching her brand and image, and consulting on where she’s going to go from here. She’s back in the public eye, she’s taking control of her aesthetic now, and everything of hers hadn’t really been updated in a long time, it was a lot of very 80s and 90s looking pop party graphics. So I worked with her brand and label to make her more mature, bringing things into more of a street-style design, not being so bubbly and poppy. Britney’s audience has grown, so her image has to grow with them and mature too, and not just have her face plastered on everything.
I was able to design some merch pieces for her, which, as someone who grew up listening to her music as a kid, was such an amazing honor. For one line, I did five or six pieces, and then for the next, they asked me to design all of it. It was one of those moments where I let the imposter syndrome go away and I trusted myself. I was like, They came to you, they trusted you. It was my time to have fun with it, and pay respect to an artist whose journey I was so happy to be involved in, even in such a small way.
To be able to help Britney be like, “Yeah, I’m reclaiming my power,” was really, really cool. It’s a journey of resilience, and that’s something that queer people can really relate to. It’s all about getting back up and fighting the battle.
How has seeing drag become increasingly mainstream over the last few years landed with you?
I’ve seen both the good and bad. I’ve seen amazing opportunities arise for drag artists and everyone on the periphery, whether that be wigs, makeup, outfits, graphic design, or management companies— so many people have been able to flourish because of this drag boom.
But drag is still subversive and isn’t fully accepted in certain areas like in Middle America, so it’s easy for people there to try to take advantage of queens. Amazing artists are having their moment across the board in the queer community and in queer culture, where in the 90s and 2000s it wasn’t that way because there was still this stigma around HIV and AIDS. Now, queer people are finally getting these moments. We’re prospering and we’re having this moment in the spotlight, but there’s still that predatory world. In the clips I’ve seen of the latest season of the show We’re Here (HBO), the queens are still faced with such bigotry. We’re in such a bubble where drag is accepted, but in the last two years, we’ve seen so many attacks on drag and trans people. When you’re in that bubble, everything is growing and drag is getting bigger and bigger, and then that bubble pops for you, and you see, Oh, no, there’s still hate in the world. There are still people that don’t accept this. There are still people that don’t want gay people, queer people, trans people to have rights.
It makes me want to be more outwardly vocal about being a queer graphic designer. I recently ran a Q&A on my Instagram where I was like, “Hey! For Pride month I want to highlight more queer artists. Please submit queer graphic designers— ideally more women trans and designers of color,” and I did not get the response that I wanted. Not that I thought it was going to be flowing with names, but it just showed how few people in those minority groups practice graphic design, because it possibly seems really daunting and scary to them.
After that Q&A, I realized I had to do more of the research myself and do the work. I’m trying to actively be more vigilant to learn who these queer designers are. Being vocal is also a way that more people are going to come to me. I have a small community of queer designers that I talk to, so I’m trying to build a pool because I feel like there isn’t one. It doesn’t seem like there’s necessarily that community there yet. I want to use my platform to highlight and help show what queer people can do and put more eyes on queer artists too.
A lot of design spaces are cis, hetero, masc-driven, white spaces, and as a white, cis man who is queer, I’m trying to do my part in challenging these things. Representation matters; showing people and telling people, “I’m not very different from you.” Once you start seeing and meeting queer people, trans people, and drag queens, they’re not as scary and intimating. They’re just people. When people are scared or intimidated by a drag queen, it’s so funny to me because drag queens are just artists! They’re putting on a persona, but to them, putting on their makeup and their outfit, that is their artform. There is nothing to be scared of or intimidated by. Drag queens are actually some of the most approachable people. We’re just scared of what we don’t know.