It's easy to forget what a sophisticated art drag can be, but LA sensation Coco Peru did a good job of reminding us, what with her coruscating dress, fab pins and chic red wig replete with Emma Peel-flip. Mind you, I didn't quite get the beige shoes, which were modest enough for even my mum to wear. But then again if you are going to chase a handsome Spaniard around – and from what we learnt Coco certainly does her fair share of that – a commonsense heel is just about forgivable.

Still, Choos or no Choos, Coco quickly drew us into a show existing somewhere between an intimate, bitchy confession and a flawless, autobiographical monologue. The journey from her days as a small boy at a Bronx Catholic school to happily married gay icon was a goldmine for comedy, what with her growing up in a pink house, being taught by the not-so-divine 'Sister John Mary' and counting 'Fruma Sarah' amongst her childhood muses.

And then the songs! No true queen worthy of the description could call herself an artiste without belting out a handful of musical numbers, and Coco delivered them all with considerable vocal aplomb – her version of 'Sister' from The Colour Purple for one, showed an interpretative skill that transcended the remit expected of high camp.

But for all her theatrical polish, Miss Coco Peru never lost her bite. She may work a dress better than most girls, but I suspect she has balls of steel.