By Marie Carroll-O’Sullivan
Not every road leads to Dublin. Some lead from Killarney to Cork, then London, and back again with a stop to perform in front of Lizzo and Harry Styles along the way. I had the pleasure of photographing Liam Bee, at a recent local event. The art of make-up struck me before anything else. So, when I heard Liam Bee was one of our own, i.e. Liam Kelleher from Woodlawn, it was a must for me to talk drag, makeup, resilience, and how a quiet kid from a Kerry town ended up living their dream with a little help from RuPaul, BPerfect Cosmetics, and one very supportive Killarney family.
Tell me about young Liam growing up in Killarney?
Shy. Very shy. Like can’t-read-aloud-in-class shy. I was introverted, anxious, and definitely not out. But looking back, that quietness taught me how to observe, reflect, and eventually express myself. Killarney is beautiful, but when you’re growing up different, it can feel isolating. Still, it gave me resilience and a thick skin, which is helpful when you’re gluing rhinestones to your face at all hours.
So how did drag come into your life?
Believe it or not through my Mam! She was watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, and I remember walking in like, “What is this?!” It was weird to me at the time but clearly it stuck! Years later, when I went to art college in Cork, I started experimenting with looks inspired by the Blitz Kids of ‘80s London and the New York Club Kids.My first drag performance was in a competition. Mam sewed the costume from scratch. She still helps with my outfits but that one was special. I was terrified… and then I won. That was it. I was in love with drag.
What does drag mean to you now?
Drag is my art, my outlet and strangely enough, my career ladder. It’s the reason I was hired as the Irish representative for BPerfect Cosmetics. Now I travel all over Ireland and England as a makeup artist and educator. Painting faces has become my day job, and I am grateful that drag opened these doors I didn’t even know were in the building.
Considering the time and effort it takes many ladies to rock up at an event looking effortless, I’m struggling to imagine the prep at such an extravagant level AND hold down a jet setting 9?
90% of what happens is before the show even starts. Booking venues, coordinating tech, styling wigs, designing posters, managing socials and hot-gluing feathers to corsets at 2am. It’s a full production.
Drag taught me everything from event planning to public speaking. I also learned that “yes” isn’t always the right answer. Burnout is real. Living in London showed me that. It also made me fall in love with Ireland all over again, especially Killarney.
Has your family always been supportive?
They’re incredible. I suppose maybe not all sparkles at first, but they’ve always shown up. Mam makes my costumes. Dad’s helped build sets. My younger brother is my biggest fan. Even my grandmother in Abbeydorney follows my gigs!Recently, a whole gang of aunts, uncles, and cousins came to see me perform at the Everyman Theatre in Cork. That support means more than I’ll ever be able to put into words.
But it hasn’t all been sequins and standing ovations, has it?
No. Drag still attracts hate sometimes. I’ve had people share photos of me in school group chats, make awful comments, even threaten my life. I’ve been spat on, kicked, beaten. All because of a costume.But I’ve never wanted to stop. If anything, it’s made me more determined. Drag taught me what real resilience looks like. Glitter is more than decoration, it’s armour.
A little bird tells me you’ve performed in front of some big names. Do tell…
I’ve had some pinch-me moments! I opened for Bambi Thug—our Eurovision star—at The Academy in Dublin. I’ve performed at ‘Mother Pride Block Party’ in front of thousands and taken the stage in Berlin.But the moment that still feels completely surreal? Performing in front of Lizzo and Harry Styles in London. I mean, these are artists I’ve idolised. I’ve belted out Good as Hell at the top of my lungs and danced like no one was watching to Treat People With Kindness. And suddenly, they were the ones watching me. I was thinking, “Enjoy this moment, keep breathing, and pretend this is totally normal.” It wasn’t. It was unreal.
What’s your vision for the future of Irish drag?
More visibility. More platforms. Not just in Dublin. There’s so much talent in smaller towns; it just needs the right space to grow. I’d love an Irish version of Drag Race (RTE2, I’m looking at you!). And more people like Annette Roche Clifford did recently in organising the Killarney event. She claims she was tired wearing out the road to Cork to see my friends and I perform. Her energy is the kind we need in more rural communities.
Some final words for young LGBTQ+ people growing up in rural Ireland Liam?
If I can go from being too anxious to speak in school to performing in front of thousands, you can too. Your path might look different and that’s the point. Different is where the magic lives.To the parents: You don’t need to understand everything right away. That comes later. What matters most is love and acceptance. Celebrate your child. That’s what my parents did, and it changed everything.
Liam’s journey proves that greatness doesn’t need a city skyline, it just needs courage, sequins, and sometimes, a mam with a sewing machine. From Woodlawn to the world stage, Liam’s story is a reminder that your most powerful path is the one where you get to be fully yourself, glue gun, glitter, and all.
