She Found Drag in Fifth Grade. Now Mary Magdalene Towers Is Ready for Her Close-Up.

For the 17-year-old Ann Arbor student, eyebrows, faith and false lashes are all part of becoming herself

Mary Magdalene Towers. Photo: Instagram/@marymagdalenedrag

Kelli Dunham

Published: May 4, 2026 | Last Updated: May 12, 2026

At a recent event at North Star Lounge, 17-year-old Ann Arbor drag performer Mary Magdalene Towers faced the crowd: "I love drag, and it's something I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to keep dancing until I'm dead," she said.

Cue "The Dead Dance" by Lady Gaga. And, well, a lot of dancing.

Mary Magdalene Towers at North Star Lounge. Courtesy photos

Most of her peers were still recovering from the SATs they had taken just 48 hours before the event. Towers, though, had put on false lashes and stepped into a pair of fabulous high heels for her first real bar show. It's a particular kind of double life: Scantron by day, stage lights by night.

"I first discovered drag in fifth grade when Covid hit," Towers told Pride Source. "I was stuck at home with my mom. We ran out of stuff to watch really fast. We discovered 'RuPaul's Drag Race,' and I was like, holy crap, this is amazing and wonderful. I love this!"

At the time, though, she didn't see herself in it. "I didn't realize women can do drag too," she said. "That didn't click until like two or three years ago." Once it did, the leap felt less like a decision and more like a recognition. "I've always been that kid putting on a fancy dress, dancing around the living room, singing show tunes. So it was kind of a natural combination."

The drag name Mary Magdalene Towers reflects that same instinct to remix a familiar symbol into something more personal. "I think Mary Magdalene is just an interesting historical figure," she said. "She's kind of — I guess the right word is underrated? People kind of glaze over her existence, but she was really cool."

In the New Testament, Mary Magdalene is one of Jesus' most devoted followers and, in the Gospel of John, the first witness to the resurrection. She's been widely mischaracterized for centuries — conflated without scriptural basis with a "sinful woman" in another gospel — and the Catholic Church didn't officially correct the record until 1969. It's a story about a significant figure whose narrative was rewritten by other people's perceptions, which, in the context of Towers' drag career, doesn't feel like a coincidence.

The name also hints at one of the tensions that runs through Towers' work: a blend of queerness and faith that doesn't need to be resolved. Scroll through her social media and you'll see that tension playing out in real time, as commenters debate theology, gender, aesthetics and eyebrows with equal intensity. It's a crash course in what it means to exist squarely in the frame of other people's perceptions — something many adult performers spend years learning to navigate.

And while the internet may have opinions, Towers has momentum. Her performance resume has been a delightful patchwork.

"I guess my first actual performance was a talent show at the end of summer camp," she said. "I said, 'Screw it. We're all from a really liberal town. I'll be fine. I'm not gonna get, like, stabbed.'"

That instinct proved correct. A coffee shop show in Ypsilanti followed — one other performer, half an hour, total.

Then there was a moment at a church function. "My church joins in a youth retreat each November at Great Wolf Lodge in Traverse City," Towers said. "So it's me and my friends and some primarily Lutheran kids from around Michigan, just chilling, doing the Jesus thing — and there was a talent show. I thought, 'Yeah, why not?' I put on my makeup and a pair of high heels, and I danced. It was kind of weird, but people clapped and no one threw tomatoes. A few friends were maybe confused, but overall they were supportive."

That willingness to say "why not" is part of what defines Towers' approach. There's no illusion of arriving fully formed. "I'm still a kid technically, so I don't have much experience," she said, "in drag or really in life. So I've been spending hours in my basement trying to sew costumes. Crying, failing, but trying."

Towers' DIY ethic extends to every part of her process. Getting into drag takes about an hour, starting with what she describes as a necessary first step: "You panic a little bit first." Then comes the technical work — foundation, contour, eyes, wig, shoes — along with one persistent nemesis. "Eyebrows," she said. "I cannot master them for the life of me. I've watched like 20 YouTube videos. Nothing's working."

Still, progress is visible. "The eye makeup has evolved," she said. "We have improved." So has her sewing, thanks in part to her work as the student head of costumes for her high school's production of "Chicago."

Towers' parents are supportive, if occasionally bemused. "I think they think it's a little weird, but they'll take me to drag shows," she said — and some of those shows are in Chicago, which is where she met her drag mother, Izzy Towers Ferrari, at a drag brunch. Towers later asked Ferrari, nervously, to adopt her. "It felt like a big deal," Towers said. "But she said yes."

The concept of chosen family, of learning through connection, is something Towers hopes to build on as she becomes more involved in Michigan's drag scene. Right now she's still on the edges of it, limited by geography and age, but her goal is clear: "I want to meet more performers and learn from them."

For Towers, drag has also been a transformation in how she sees herself. "Self-confidence has been something I've struggled with for a long time," she said, recalling her earlier high school years. "Then I started doing drag, and I was like … huh. Maybe I'm hot."

It turns out, drag isn't about becoming someone else — it's about accessing a version of herself that feels powerful and possible. That sense of possibility carries her forward. Towers hopes to study film in college and perform at established queer venues like Necto, but for now the focus is simpler: the next show, the next moment in the spotlight, the next unruly eyebrow tamed.

Her advice to young people watching from the wings is direct: "Do it. It doesn't matter how much skill you have right now. It's not about being ready. It's about starting."