The Royal Borough of Kingston-upon-Thames is not where you might expect London’s hottest DJ to have grown up. “It’s a lovely place,” Bestley, 31 and ruler of the capital’s club scene, says drily. “Provided you’re cis, white, het [heterosexual], have 2.4 children and a dog.”
They — Bestley goes by everything, but they and them are the preferred choice — are sat cross-legged on a leather couch in a slim-fitting Vivienne Westwood rugby shirt, blue and white stripes with the sovereign orb sewn into the top left. They are gender queer, acerbic and hilarious. I couldn’t love them more.
Whether Bestley is spinning decks at a fashion week party in Mayfair (of which plenty next week) or at an art school hoedown in a Dalston basement, they get the crowd going like no one else.
“I never planned to become a DJ,” they tell me. Really? Yes, really: the whole thing happened by accident after dropping out of Central Saint Martins. “I was going out five, six times a week, always to the same place. One day, the owner said: ‘If you’re going to be here every night, why don’t you DJ?’ So I did.” Cue a big whoop of laughter.
Bestley learned how to DJ by watching those who came before: Jodie Harsh, founder of the gay club brand Room Service, and the model and campaigner Munroe Bergdorf. Proof of their own talent lies in the sheer variety of events on their CV, including glitzy stand-outs like last year’s Evening Standard Theatre Awards.
Few other DJs could get Nicole Scherzinger on the dancefloor on a Sunday night, way past her bedtime and just hours away from her next West End performance in Sunset Boulevard.It turns out having the star from a musical strutting her stuff felt like poetic justice. “One of my first gigs as a DJ was at East Bloc: I was given a whole room to do what I liked, which was playing show tunes and themes from TV.”
Why not, you might say? That would be the point. Bestley’s career has been a big, whopping ‘why not?’ — a career marked by a devil-may-care attitude that lends spontaneity to often meticulously crafted sets, spanning Seventies disco and classics from Nineties daytime television.
“People would always lose their minds when they heard the theme tune to Buffy,” they laugh. No surprise, then, that at the moment they reign supreme not only on the club scene, but as one of the UK’s go-to support acts, touring with the likes of Annie Mac and Jessie Ware.
Now, though, there is an album in the works. “I started working on my own music during lockdown — and I began to paint, draw and sculpt again,” they say. “I’m a very creative person: if I don’t get the creativity out in some manner, it doesn’t go very well.”
Time will tell if their song-writing is up there with their DJing. “All the ideas are there but I’m working with some producers now to pick apart the chaos,” they deadpan. “It’s grown-up pop,” Bestley says of the album. “Like Jessie [Ware] or Goldfrapp.”
One name feels conspicuously left out of this line-up: Róisín Murphy. It doesn’t take much to guess why. “When I am asked about my biggest idols, Róisín has always been top of the list,” Bestley says, so it was “disappointing” when Murphy took to Facebook to decry puberty blockers last September, alienating many in her LGBT fan base.
But, they caution, “people can jump to conclusions very quickly on social media. We need to be more forgiving and allow people time to change their opinions.” When I ask if they would still consider Murphy an ally, they decline to answer.
Bestley is worried about the rise of transphobia and that bodily autonomy continues to be denied to those in their community. Since our chat, a row has erupted between politicians over Rishi Sunak’s jibe about defining a woman — a remark made during Prime Minister’s Questions while the mother of murdered transgender teenager, Brianna Ghey was in the public gallery. Bestley is used to transphobia being whipped up by politicians.
We were in Bethnal Green and my mum said: ‘I don’t fit in here.’ I told her that’s how I’d felt growing up
“It’s a diversionary tactic used by the Government and by the media to distract from real problems,” they muse. “Like global warming.” It’s there in the media too, and in the past, Bestley has refused interviews with outlets that have published transphobic content.
Bestley recognises how fortunate they were to have parents who supported their identity. Raised in a “middle-of-the-road C of E family”, they felt out of place throughout their childhood and teenage years. When they found a groove as a club kid, though, they were never discouraged from pursuing their dreams.
“I recently had a really sweet moment with my mum,” Bestley says. “We were walking around Bethnal Green, and she just said to me: ‘I don’t fit in here: everyone’s so different.’ I told her that’s how I’d felt growing up in Hampton. And I just saw the penny drop.”
Many in Bestley’s community worry about the demise of independent nightlife, especially with the recent shuttering of The Glory (Bestley’s local) and, amid safety fears, of G-A-Y Lates. This isn’t just a societal concern, but an economic one. “The night time economy provides a lot of work for people, and losing venues is a terrible thing,” Bestley says. “We should be looking to save more venues, to create more [jobs] for people who want to work in that industry.”
Clubbing has long been a haven for the queer community and Bestley is proud that they are leading the charge to make clubbing safer. “There are now sober angels at clubs,” they explain, “who’ll look after people who’ve maybe had a bit too much or are feeling overwhelmed and just need someone to talk to.” That way, the DJ adds, they also look after a venue’s licence.
At what point do “sober angels” turn into something more prescriptive? Bestley laughs: for them, the idea that watchful onlookers might threaten the club’s escapist ethos is void. Likewise, they have little truck with the bougie and boutique parties that have become more prevalent on the underground scene. “People like a more curated experience,” they shrug.
Bestley is also a vocal advocate for Trans+ Pride, which has swelled year-on-year since it was founded in 2019. “It’s been the most incredible moment I’ve had in London: walking through town with the trans community,” they beam. What’s lovely about it, they say, is that is stays true to the grassroots ethos of the original Pride protest — particularly now that London Pride has shifted towards a more corporate focus.
Still, “it’s a wonderful thing to be able to celebrate and show the world that this is what can happen [in a tolerant society],” Bestley says of the parade, which takes place on June 29.
For the moment, though, there’sfashion week and their calendar is chockablock, from the Perfect Magazine party to ES Magazine’s big bash at the Savoy. Bestley’s PR tells me their schedule is yet to be finalised. How do they do it all? Bestley is nonchalant, breezy and cool. Of course they are. They’re a total rockstar.
