Where else can you see drag queens, Septa Unella, the nun from Game of Thrones, Cruella de Vil flocked by a herd of dalmatians, mock political figures ranging from Hillary Clinton to Sarah Palin, and a host of pun-related costumes? On 17th Street NW, of course.
Each year, on the Tuesday before Halloween, the main drag in D.C.’s traditional “gayborhood” gets a veritable ton of foot traffic as people don creative costumes and heels, from simple 1-inch pumps to 6-inch stilettos, as they prepare for the annual 17th Street High Heel Race.
The actual course is a 300-meter straightaway, and the race typically lasts only a few minutes, but what draws thousands of spectators each year is the parade of costumes two hours prior to the starting gun. Participants strut up and down the street in their fancy footwear, hugging old friends and acquaintances, posing for photos, spraying silly string and confetti, and engaging in various campy antics.
The race, celebrating its 30th anniversary this year, was initially attended by only those “in the know” within D.C.’s LGBT community, but has grown in popularity each year. Now, families with children from the suburbs regularly attend and try to grab selfies with race participants. It’s a change that would have been unimaginable at a gay event 30 years ago, says Dave Perruzza, general manager of JR.’s Bar & Grill, the host bar of the High Heel Race.
In preparation for this Tuesday’s race, JR.’s has gone on a decorating blitz, constructing a 10-foot tall wooden high heel resting on a ledge above the bar. Suspended above the bar are 30 pairs of silver-colored high heels. “I joke that each pair is the heel the winner wore each year,” says Perruzza. “But we actually went to a thrift store and bought 30 pairs of heels to represent each year.”
Perruzza is so consumed with making sure the event runs flawlessly, worrying about security, crowd safety, and whether he can get enough volunteers, that he can’t really sit back and enjoy the race. But he does have a fond memory from years ago.
“The first year I ran it, just before I went out, [JR.’s owner] Eric Little said, ‘If you fall and hurt yourself, you’ll be out of work and won’t have any income.’ And I said, ‘I’ll be fine.’ I was one of the people who actually put on six-inch heels, and somebody fell right in front of me,” he says. “And I’m wearing this silver lamé dress with wings and stuff on it, and I jump over this person, and all I could think about was, ‘I cannot prove Eric right and sprain my ankle.’ So I did the perfect landing and kept on running. I got 13th place that year.”
The 30th Annual 17th Street High Heel Race will take place on on Tuesday, Oct. 25 on 17th Street between the intersections of P and R. The parade of participants starts at 7 p.m., with the race starting at Cobalt at 9 p.m. Volunteers are welcome, and must report to JR.’s at 1519 17th St. NW, by 6:30 p.m. For more information, visit jrsbar-dc.com.
When Martha Nell Smith was a child, she was given a book called The Golden Treasury of Poetry. "I was a nerdy kid, I liked to read," the 72-year-old academic says, adding, "I also liked to play. I was a very sporty kid too. I was a tomboy."
The book contained several poems by Emily Dickinson. "I thought these look so simple, but when you think about it, they are really weird," she says. "But you could say that about almost any Dickinson poem."
Smith recounts the long and winding path that led her to become one of the foremost experts on Emily Dickinson, with a particular focus on the poet's secretly romance-laden letters to her sister-in-law, Susan Dickinson.
The year's nearly out. Sometimes that calls for taking sweet stock of the past months' wonderful events. Coming to the end of 2025, on the other hand, is more like getting to that denouement in the action movie where the survivors take a breath and pat each other on the back for having made it out alive. At this stage, we are Newt getting tucked-in to her Sulaco hibernation tube.
With some effort and a pinch of luck, may we all fare better in 2026 than poor Newt's end at the start of Alien 3.
Why such a shitty year? So much of it, obviously, can be laid at the feet of Lame Duck Donald. Not that he hasn't had loads of assistance in his evil efforts to erase our transgender family and friends, colleagues, and leaders during 2025. The purge, as promised, began right out of the gate on Inauguration Day.
A federal judge has sentenced Ruby Corado, the founder and former executive director of the now-shuttered D.C. nonprofit Casa Ruby, to 33 months in federal prison for wire fraud -- a punishment that could ultimately lead to her deportation from the United States, despite her status as a legal permanent resident.
On January 13, U.S. District Judge Trevor McFadden granted federal prosecutors’ request for a more severe sentence, exceeding the 15-21 months recommended under federal sentencing guidelines.
The U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Columbia argued that Corado betrayed the trust of Casa Ruby’s clients by transferring $200,000 to personal offshore bank accounts in her native El Salvador, held under her birth name, for what prosecutors said was the purpose of enriching herself.
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