At my first ever Pride, it pissed it down. I was in my late teens, and central London was one big (PG-rated) gay sauna. My hair frizzed, which would usually make me self-conscious, but no one there – queuing for the portaloos in Soho Square, or day-drinking outside the Angus Steakhouse – seemed self-conscious about anything. Self-consciousness was passé there. So, for a blissful few hours, I decided to be a proud lesbian.
A lot has changed since then, queer rights-wise. My personal pride came and went. The Equality Act was introduced, same-sex marriage came in 2013, Prince William appeared on the cover of Attitude, and increasingly, every corporation from Barclays to BAE Systems is desperate to show off (in Pride Month at least) their queer-friendly credentials. At the same time, this year – the 50th anniversary of the UK’s first official Pride march – there’s something rancid in the air. In May, the UK lost its top-ten ranking on Ilga-Europe’s “Rainbow Europe” LGBTQ-friendly list. Which is a surprise to literally no queer person who’s been keeping half an eye on the news. In 2021, monthly reports of homophobic and transphobic hate crime rose by more than one and a half times between May and August. Attacks on trans people in the mainstream media have become obsessive and unhinged.
Content from our partners
