Ally Garrett knew that making the most of Sydney’s transformation into a sparkling queerdom for WorldPride would mean upping the ante. In a spreadsheet type-A personalities dream of, Garrett created a colour-coded breakdown of the 14 events she and her friends are attending, including what time they need to be there – and the outfit for each occasion.
“Mardi Gras is the most important time in the calendar year for me,” she says. “I knew this year, with it being WorldPride and so much on, I’d need to take a more social secretary approach to get everyone organised.”
WorldPride is held every few years in cities around the world – and this year, it’s Sydney’s turn. From mid-February until early March, more than 300 events are taking place, turning the city into an LGBTQ+ mecca with plenty of rainbow decor. Kim Petras, Charli XCX and Kylie Minogue are among the headliners, but there are also plenty of events being held outside the official program.
“It’s like Mardi Gras on steroids,” Garrett says. “Mardi Gras is like my Christmas – it’s like my absolute season of excess. So for me, this is something that I have been allocating budget for.”
WorldPride is running in partnership with the annual Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, coinciding with the 45th anniversary of the first Mardi Gras protest and party in 1978. It’s expected to draw half a million people and inject $112m in to the state’s economy.
While some of the official parties have sold out, Garrett is opting for smaller events, including a queer dance party that’s become an institution.
“Some of the big corporate events, there’s a lot of police and the parties don’t really feel like community,” says Garrett. “That’s not to say I don’t think people will have an excellent time seeing Kylie [Minogue] or Charli XCX.”
Sydney-based Ben Riley, 36, has taken two weeks off work to attend Pride in what he describes as a “real commitment to being gay this year”.
Like Garrett, he’s opting for smaller parties, which he says attract a “more diverse, queer crowd”.
“I prefer that over thousands of people where the crowd isn’t always as diverse,” he says. “I don’t love that this big celebration of queerness is so much about consumption, but at least by going to smaller parties and events I’m supporting those organisers and performers.”
To Claud Bailey, who is 24 and from Sydney, Pride this year is like taking a holiday to a “gay utopia”.
“The world is a heteronormative place. So this is what it would feel like if the world was gay all the time in terms of how much is on and the fact that it’s all for us.”
‘Bookings, bookings, bookings’
For many queer performers, the so-called season of excess means “bookings, bookings, bookings”, says drag artist Marlena Dali, who is from Los Angeles but now lives in Sydney.
As they sit among other performers doing their makeup for a weekly talent show at Sydney’s Newtown Hotel, Marlena Dali says these smaller events are the part of Pride they love the most – where performers no longer feel on “the fringe of society”.
“It’s the big events where you have to be accommodating to the sensitive heterosexuals,” Marlena Dali says. “You can push the status quo more in the more intimate events run by community.”
Fellow performer and drag king Buster Nut, who is from the UK but now lives in Sydney, says these performances also put “pink dollars” back into the “pink community”.
Buster Nut is well aware of the difference this can make. They only started performing a year ago, but have 15 gigs booked for Pride.
“It’s giving me money that I can save for my top surgery,” they say, referring to gender-affirming surgery that includes the removal of breast tissue. “And those bookings have been huge because it means I might be able to get it by the end of the year now.”
Bailey, meanwhile, will spend much of Pride putting on workshops for queer youth, building towards a theatre production on the last day of the weeks-long celebration in a bid to give something back to the community.
“This year it is a combination of pleasure and work,” Bailey says. “The youth understand queerness way more than I did when I was a teenager, but they don’t have access to community in the same way that you might do when you’re older.
“They’re in a place where they can’t control their families, or schools, or religion, so it’s an important part of Pride to pour love into them and hear what they have to say.”
An opportunity to learn
For participants, too, there’s often a deeper meaning to the 17 days of festivities, which span comedy, talks and performing arts.
To Bianca Lubke, 19, who travelled to Sydney from Wagga Wagga to attend Pride for the first time, the event is about shedding the isolation she felt growing up queer in rural Australia.
She is most excited to attend WorldPride’s human rights conference, which will be the largest ever held in the Asia Pacific.
“I’ll be in a space that will celebrate myself and my community members in the most validating way possible,” Lubke says. “And also I’ll be able to reflect on the history before me, and how we got here.”
Lubke, whose journey to Sydney is funded through a scholarship from a queer youth organisation, says the organisation has helped to pay for the events she’ll attend.
“If I didn’t have that, it would have been a struggle for me,” she says. “I wouldn’t have been able to go to the conference.”
Emily Scott, who is 31 and from Sydney, has long seen Pride as an opportunity to appreciate the “wonderful community” she’s part of. Like Garrett, she’s taken on a social secretary approach, mapping out her favourite Pride events, with price points and links, and sharing it publicly as a “community service”.
“I’m not like a creative queer, I’m not doing drag or dancing, so I’m very happy for my WorldPride contribution to be gay admin,” Scott says.
But this Pride, she has realised how it’s also a time to educate the broader community.
“I’m living with my parents at the moment and it’s made me realise how Pride is an opportunity for families of the queer community or people that I guess don’t have much exposure to us to learn more.”
“Every day my mum is asking me questions of things she’ll see on the news.”
For Garrett, Pride means time spent with community, but also a chance to spark more progress on equality for LGBTQ+ people.
“New South Wales is quite far behind some other states on its anti-discrimination laws,” she says, referring to an act that was developed in 1977 and advocates say is long overdue for reform. “It’s a good time to push for conversations to be had on what we can do better.”
