“Melbourne, is it just me, or is it a little moist down south?”

A fever-dream hybrid of Network’s Howard Beale and the suburban delirium of Kath & Kim, Trish is an 80s Sydney weatherwoman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

This bleached-blonde Cassandra clawed her way from the secretarial pool to Channel 6’s morning forecast. All she wants? One. Flawless. Broadcast. But a great stinking hole has opened up in the ozone layer – a rupture in the fragile membrane holding her reality in place. Can she nail the day’s outlook before her monsoon of desire and rage raining all over her dreams?

Trish’s debut: “A Word That Starts with G” was devised at the dawn of 2024, months after Israel accelerated its genocide in the Gaza Strip. Conceived as Berlin’s art scene iced over into complicit silence, Trish—”your lovable, fuckable, yet fundamentally attainable weathergirl”—became the unhinged tornado they deserved. Part camp spectacle, part soap box tirade: her manicured hands point to stormfronts while tracing the contours of institutional complicity.

The character of Trish was developed through the König drag mentorship.

Further reading on Trish: A word that starts with “G” and ends with “enocide”