When Dorian Corey passed away in August 1993, the world of New York’s drag ball culture lost a legend. She was the philosopher-queen of the iconic documentary Paris Is Burning, known for her razor-sharp wit and that soulful, world-weary gaze. But honestly, nobody—not the fans, not her "children" in the House of Corey, and certainly not the NYPD—expected what was hiding behind the sequins.
Inside her Harlem apartment, tucked away in a trunk filled with feathers and old gowns, lay a mummified body.
It wasn't just a skeleton. It was a person, preserved for decades. Through fingerprinting and a bit of grim detective work, the remains were identified as Robert Worley. The discovery sent shockwaves through the community. How does a drag icon live for twenty-five years with a corpse in her closet?
It’s a story that sounds like a fever dream, but the reality is much more tragic and complicated than the headlines suggest.
The Discovery That Changed Everything
After Dorian died of AIDS-related complications at age 56, her friend Lois Taylor went to the apartment to organize her things. She was looking for Halloween costumes. Instead, she found a large, green-plaid trunk.
Inside was a gruesome nesting doll of sorts.
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There were layers of plastic, then Naugahyde, then more wrapping. Everything was covered in baking soda—a DIY method to neutralize the smell of decay. When investigators finally unrolled the last layer, they found a man in a fetal position, wearing only boxer shorts.
He had a bullet hole in the back of his head.
Who was Robert Worley?
Before he became the "mummy in the closet," Robert Worley was a man from North Carolina who had spent time in Sing Sing prison. Records show he was arrested in 1963 for rape and assault. His brother, Fred Worley, later told reporters that "Bobby" had essentially vanished in the late 1960s.
Basically, he just dropped off the map.
The timeline matches up perfectly. Investigators found pull-tabs from beer cans inside the wrappings—the kind that haven't been manufactured since the 1970s. This suggested the body had been there since roughly 1968. Think about that. Dorian Corey moved apartments in 1988. She didn't just leave the trunk behind; she moved it with her.
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What Most People Get Wrong About the Case
The tabloid version of this story is easy: a "crazy" drag queen committed a murder and kept a trophy. But if you look at the context of Harlem in the 1960s and 70s, a different picture emerges.
First, there’s the self-defense theory.
Friends of Dorian later claimed she left a note with the body. It supposedly said: "This poor man broke into my home and was trying to rob me." While the police never officially confirmed the existence of this note, it aligns with what we know about the neighborhood at the time. Harlem was dangerous. Burglaries were constant.
But there’s a deeper, more intimate possibility.
- The Lover Theory: Fred Worley recalled his brother Bobby getting drunk and rambling about a woman named Dorian.
- The Abusive Relationship: In the ballroom scene, many trans women and drag performers faced horrific domestic violence. If Robert Worley was an abusive boyfriend—and his criminal record for assault suggests a capacity for violence—Dorian may have felt she had no choice.
- The Distrust of Police: You've got to remember who Dorian Corey was. A Black drag queen in the 1960s. If she called the cops to report a shooting, even in self-defense, who was going to believe her? Honestly, she probably feared she’d end up in prison or worse.
Why the Story of Robert Worley Still Matters
This case isn't just a "true crime" curiosity. It's a window into the invisibility of marginalized people. Robert Worley was an ex-con who was estranged from his family. Dorian Corey was a performer in a subculture that the mainstream world ignored.
They existed in the shadows.
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It's why the body stayed hidden for a quarter-century. Nobody was looking for Robert, and nobody was looking too closely at Dorian. Even when Paris Is Burning was being filmed in her apartment, the trunk was right there. It sat in the background of shots while she dispensed wisdom about "shade" and "reading."
The Legacy of the "Mummy"
The story eventually inspired the FX series Pose, where the character Elektra Abundance finds herself in a similar predicament. It’s a dramatization, sure, but it captures the desperation of the era.
Dorian Corey took her secrets to the grave, and we will never know for certain what happened that night in 1968. Was it a robbery? A domestic dispute? A moment of pure panic?
What we do know is that Dorian lived a life of incredible poise and grace while carrying a literal and metaphorical weight that would have broken most people. She managed her house, mentored the youth, and became an international icon, all while her closet held the ultimate secret.
Actionable Takeaways for True Crime Enthusiasts
If you’re looking to dig deeper into the mystery of Robert Worley and Dorian Corey, here is how to navigate the available facts:
- Read the Original Reporting: Seek out the 1994 New York Magazine article "The Drag Queen Had a Mummy in Her Closet." It remains the most comprehensive source of interviews from that specific time.
- Contextualize with Film: Re-watch Paris Is Burning. Now that you know about the trunk, watch Dorian’s segments again. Her comments on "leaving a mark on the world" take on a much darker, more poignant meaning.
- Understand the Era: Research the history of the NYPD's relationship with the LGBTQ+ community in the late 60s. It explains why a person might choose to hide a body rather than call for help.
- Look for the Note: While the "robbery note" is often cited, remember it has never been publicly released by authorities. Treat it as a credible rumor rather than a verified fact.
The story of Dorian Corey and Robert Worley is a reminder that the people we see on screen—even in documentaries—always have layers we can't see. Sometimes, those layers are wrapped in Naugahyde and hidden in the back of a closet.