In the basement level of the Mayan theater early Friday evening, performers are getting ready for the night’s festivities — Lucha VaVoom will kick off in just a few hours. Wrestlers stretch for their upcoming matches, burlesque dancers help each other with their wardrobes, and in the middle of it all, Cassandro compliments everyone as they pass by.
He looks like royalty. His feathered blonde hair resembles a crown and the glitter purple eyeshadow gives him a sparkle. The extra long robe also helps. The chaotic rustling and wall of noise fades. The theater goes silent as Cassandro stands to take the stage.
The crowd engulfs him and phones come out to capture photos of the trailblazing gay lucha libre icon.
Lucha Vavoom seems like the perfect place for someone like Cassandro. The promotion takes pride in exhibiting lucha libre and mixing it with comedy and dancing. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, eschewing the uber-macho vibe often associated with professional wrestling.
Here, everyone is welcome, regardless of sexuality or gender. In many ways, Cassandro and his career are directly responsible for bringing this event to life.
Cassandro, whose given name is Saúl Armendáriz, is one of the most famous exoticos in lucha libre. Exoticos are now more analogous to performing in drag, though this wasn’t always the case. The wrestling archetype, alongside heels/rudos and babyfaces/tecnicos, was initially treated as a mocking of weak or effeminate men.
It was a given that these wrestlers would lose at the end of their match. They were the unfortunate fodder in a game of masculine triumph.
(Jill Connelly / De Los)
Armendariz’s early career followed that trajectory. It was through his alter ego of Cassandro that the perception of the role of exoticos in lucha libre began to change. His fascination with fashion led him to adopt wrestling costumes you were more likely to find in figure skating, complete with sequins and makeup.
The more extravagant in-ring performances eventually started winning crowds over. Exoticos started winning matches and eventually championships, encouraging others to explore their inner strength without the heteronormative stoicism of a typical wrestler.
Cassandro would become so popular that he got the opportunity to face El Hijo Del Santo, scion of Mexico’s greatest masked hero, in 1991. The match was instrumental in introducing a larger audience to a queer and more inclusive genre of wrestling.
More important, it helped remove the stigma of being a gay exotico.
This by no means was a singular effort. Cassandro and his contemporaries like Pimpinela Escarlata worked hard to change the perceptions of exoticos in the 1980s and ‘90s.
“I am one of the pioneers that came and made their mark on the new way of lucha libre,” Pimpinela Escarlata told the L.A. Times in Spanish before his match at Lucha Vavoom.
Exotico Pimpinela Escarlata jumps on luchador Magno during the “Lucha VaVoom Presents: Cassandro Queen of the Ring” show.
(Jill Connelly / De Los)
“Before, exoticos used normal-looking tights, without color or confidence. They didn’t even use pantyhose. But then Cassandro, May Flowers and I began making this the style. The style of wearing tights, bathing suits, makeup — a little bit of everything.”
Cassandro is at Lucha VaVoom to promote his eponymous biopic starring Gael García Bernal, but the wrestlers, dancers and staff are treating the event as a celebration of his trailblazing career. He’s been given a throne near the wrestling ring to watch over his kingdom and is accompanied by Los Angeles de Cassandro, two wrestlers who fight on his behalf decked out in shiny golden underwear, angel wings and not much else. The tag team picked up the win in the opening match and then went by the throne to stand alongside Cassandro for the rest of the event.
“Just having him in the dressing room is such a blessing. He brightens up the room just having him around,” said fellow wrestler Lil Cholo. “The fondest memory [I have of him] is seeing him dive off the second story here at the Mayan. That was pretty cool and I had never seen that before. And when I saw that — hat’s off, my respect, you know, my respect.”
The film focuses on how Armendáriz, a gay teenager from El Paso living with a single mom, transformed into Cassandro and eventually reached heights that no other exotico had previously achieved. The pressure of fame led him to moments of self-doubt and into the throes of addiction leading up to his match against El Hijo Del Santo.
Cassandro eventually found sobriety on June 4, 2003. The date is tattooed on his back. It was during that period of his life that he met Lucha Vavoom co-founder Liz Fairbaim. The two were putting zip ties on folding chairs together in preparation for an event.
“He was three months clean from all the stuff that you saw in the movie. And I mean, he once took a bus or drove from El Paso to do a little show in a quinceanera hall [in Los Angeles],” said Fairbaim. “It was like one of my favorite places … he’s my best friend. We traveled the world together for 15 years. He came over to my house last night, and we were talking about all kinds of crazy stuff we’ve done.”
As the next match begins, Andy Richter is on commentary. While the inclusion of the TV talk show host sidekick in the night’s program might seem out of place, the comedian knows the importance of Cassandro’s contribution to wrestling firsthand. He and Conan O’Brien learned how to become luchadores with the help of Cassandro for a series on Conan’s late-night show in 2017 in Mexico City.
“Cassandro was just so nice and friendly and patient and made sure we didn’t get hurt,” said Richter. “I remember he had these beautiful Frida Kahlo lilly boots, which are actually still in my photo library.”
Cassandro’s in-ring wrestling has been sparse at the age of 53. He’s been in various multi-person matches but hasn’t been as active since suffering a stroke in 2021.
His last singles match was in 2020 against genderfluid and transfeminine wrestler Sonny Kiss at EFFY’s Big Gay Brunch, a show that exclusively features LGBTQ+ performers.
Saul Armendáriz began his groundbreaking journey by overcoming homophobic taunts from crowds, and now Cassandro is able to enter an all-queer wrestling locker room. He and other exoticos have laid the foundation for more expression and variety in pro wrestling. And for now, he’s going to sit on his throne and admire it all.
Hector Diaz is a writer and social media producer born and raised in southeast L.A. His work has been featured at SB Nation, New Republic and Polygon.