The largest concentration of devastated queens and hurting queers ever seen in Brixton, gathered for the funeral of arch-diva Baroness, HRH Murderesse VC, Leoness von Cleeff.

It was no cold religious ritual but an achingly honest outpouring of grief, loss and confusion by Madame's friends and community.

Leoness's death was front-page national news; her funeral was raw emotion undiluted by the presence of any God-molesting preachers…..it was all tears and queers, some make-up, much pain.

It is a privilege to be in the same room as the corpse of an entity whose soul you love. That's why I believe it's so important we go to each others funerals - after being with a person while they are alive, you should spend some time with them dead in the process of coming to understand that.

While Leoness dominated the funeral from her dragged-up and bewigged white coffin in the corner, Nazeem, Kiki, Nico and Jenny Jones (and Rochelle in dignified silence) all paid tribute to their lost sister, present in body, in spirit and on video. Through singing and through sobbing, Leoness was honoured with her final request, respect, heavily topped with love.

Leoness's final written communication, Immortal Spirit was read out by Nico. Opening with "Who wants to live forever?" this soul-searching and sassy document from South Africa's premier diva ('she was a singer, not just a drag artist, she was a true performer' said Jenny Jones) is proof of her great mind; she was more than the sum of legs, looks and lungs. It is an amazing document that needs to be widely published in it's own right.

In part: as "not just any girl, but the jewel of the Islamic convent ... I was forced to confront my own mortality approximately 99 times a day…….Today I don't fear the afterlife no more - and appreciate my mortality as the only guarantee that every mortal is born with ... Imagine having to keep up for eternity? ... I…know that I do not want to live, charm and deliver forever anymore".

Of all the queens, Leoness is the only one I ever envied; her odd-eyed Vogue glamour, her toughness, her femininity, her talent and her voice-that-really-mattered.

I always saw Leoness (a self-described 'squint and holy moffie') as the First Lady of our underworld and admired her hard-core and contemporary lifestyle that seemed as much chosen as inflicted. I always knew she was a cut above the rest. I was honoured when she accoladed me in her column.

Fashion might eat itself, but drags eat each other.

Where were the wendy drags, where were the commercial drag queens who own coffee-cabarets in trendy suburbs and peddle their tuna to heterosexuals as art?

Many girls never acknowledged Leoness as their "gender illusionist"guru while she was alive, nor had the respect to see off their teacher at her funeral.

And large and amazing as the chlora and natalie drag contingent there was, no bitch in heels today had the right to miss it. Leoness von Cleeff was the performer all drag queens in South Africa were measured against, she pioneered the way really singing while the others limped and synced after her. Unluckily for the talentless, Leoness will always be a yardstick of her artform that can not be forgotten, and so she will still dominate in death.

Leoness signed off her last missive Immortally Yours and it is the responsibility of "the brutal society I find myself in"- that's ugly us - to honour her work and to accord her the legendary status she earned, and for which she sacrificed so much. There must be a biography of Leoness von Cleeff, a moffie-table book of photographs of her beauty, elegance and individuality, a video document of her talented performances and of her life-story. We owe Leoness that homage and must support Nico and others in accomplishing this.

Though a Moslem by birth, Leoness chose death by gas (my heart warms to her on a cellular level as a good Jewish girl, familiar method), and like a true legend had a facial and a photo-shoot the day before she ended her life.

Leoness was awarded African Drag Artist of the Century, she was pioneer of the Pussys, Executive Producer of Soul Sounds, fool-public-proof famous and now, opportunities abounding, she was the star with everything going for her.

How hard it is to understand that the pain of being can be just as great in times of success as in moments of failure, how agonising it is to accept that even a legend has needs that can't be met, how remarkable it is to be a real man as well as a true lady. As Shafieq Isaacs, Leoness left the legacy of a young daughter in the Cape for whom a trust fund has been established.

Elu and I have a wonderful range of memories of Leoness; the night we were all fired from Ceasars Palace as hired sluts and how we laughed over doras at Champions about it, the time Leoness hired Elu to dance at Soul Sounds (Leoness wanted to invert the black man-white girl dance norm and used Elu and Caroline Mofokeng instead-it bombed), her graciousness "I keep my ears and eyes open and learn a lot from you people", the tasteful beauty of Leoness's things among Sharon's dog bones in the squat in town, the years of watching each others' development, all the slutty club nights, all the fierce Pride moments.

Leoness was the only queen who ever grumped at me that she wanted to come to the AWB too and why didn't I invite her … that was the day I knew I'd met my match in ferocity.

At Rachel's funeral, Leoness told Elu that she wanted a Viking or a Hindu funeral, she wanted to be lit on pyres and set on water. And Leoness's funeral, so few years later, felt like that to me anyway…the tragic loss of a Warrior-Queen and her entrenchment as a legendary Goddess in our Hall of Heroines.

"Everywhere round me cunts are kicking the bucket" wrote Leoness in her farewell, and what an orgy of good-byes it has been. The feeling at Simon Nkoli's funeral was profound and respectful, the feeling at Mike Watkins funeral was saddened-relieved, Rachel's funeral was conducted in shock.

Leoness von Cleeffs sendoff was full of confusion and suffering, but ultimately it was very much about love, about admiration and awe and thanks. It was a reluctant and heartfelt farewell to über-gender-illusionist, cultural activist and leader of the pack ... and what's the bet the bitch Leoness is right now up there, looking fab and still out-flying all the fairys. ©Steven Cohen