CULTURE

Kimberly Michelle Westwood Is One of Brandon Muck’s Best Personas

Muck used to paint Westwood’s face onto his prom clients when he worked at Ulta and Sephora.

Kimberly Michelle Westwood (JP Bogan)

Kimberly Michelle Westwood (or Brandon Muck offstage) calls herself a drag socialite. Westwood first got in drag for a softball fundraiser in 2010, and has been an overachiever ever since. She enlisted a team of backup dancers for a high-concept number set to Lady Gaga and Beyoncé’s “Telephone,” all to help The Gators (part of the Rose City Softball Association) drum up funds for new uniforms.

Westwood has political family history in the surrounding Portland metro area. Muck’s grandfather, Sam Cox, was mayor of Troutdale from 1983 to 1992. Muck would dance and play piano as a child to entertain his grandfather’s party guests.

“I’ve kind of always been performing, but it’s interesting; I’ve always had a persona in my adult life in the queer community,” Westwood says. “I’ve never just put Brandon out there; it’s always been different personas. I was Mr. CC Slaughters 2010 as my old persona, and now it’s been Kim that has stuck [around] the longest.”

Westwood started taking drag seriously in 2016 when she ran for Miss Gay Oregon through the Imperial Sovereign Rose Court. She’s won multiple titles, such as Rose Empress LX—where she made history as the court’s first Asian Rose Empress—and Miss Portland Gay Pride 2022. She serves looks and laughs at various bingo games and brunches across Portland, most regularly at CC Slaughters and Stag. Some of her fan-favorite routines are character acts, including Dora the Explorer, Superstar’s Mary Katherine Gallagher, and a number set to the J.G. Wentworth commercial jingle. She finds behind-the-scenes conceptualizing to be the most joyful part of her drag career. But at 37 years old, with nearly 10 years of experience under her corset, she considers herself “older” in the drag scene.

“My personality doesn’t change and my voice doesn’t change in drag, so it’s still technically me in a wig, but a little more outgoing and friendly,” Westwood says.

Westwood’s makeup artistry is obvious from the moment she enters a room. She’s not afraid to take chances with not yet mainstream neons and ultraviolet-reactive makeup. Muck worked at Ulta and Sephora, but says he preferred the cash register over painting customers. “I ended up putting Kim’s face on girls for prom,” he says. “I was like ‘Stamp, perfect, you need more for flash photography.’”

With Muck’s unassuming and demure demeanor, it seems fit he invented Kimberly to hone his many talents. Westwood calls it “honoring and humbling” to be named one of Portland’s Finest Drag Artists. “It’s nice to be recognized now because there are so many drag artists in Portland,” she says. “It makes me appreciate that they see that I’m one of the good ones.”

Though her onstage persona hardly takes anything seriously, Westwood is aware of how drag continues to face threats under the Trump administration. “We just need to support each other,” she says. “It’s the world against us. Continue to lift each other up.” Her advice to other performers is to “come in, do your numbers, chill and then leave. You’re being booked—hired for this job, and any little extraness is usually when the bad stuff starts happening. Be professionals, do your thing, and make your money.”

Nicole Eckrich

Nicole Eckrich is a contributor to Willamette Week.

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