Why I Didn't Go To Pride
Had better things to do?
Pride was this weekend in London, and I didn’t go. I’m not sad about it, really – I didn’t even want to go. But that wasn’t because I have some moralistic stance on the corporatization and pink-washing of Pride, or because I think I’m ‘above it’ - I’ve been to plenty of Pride parades in my time. The reason I didn’t want to go, is simply because I just don’t like being in huge groups of sweaty people, off their tits on ketamine, singing ‘We Found Love’ by Rihanna every hour, on the hour.
If queerness is a spectrum, then it stands to reason that Pride is also a spectrum? I’m not sure exactly where I sit, but basically – I'm not on the ‘parade’ end of it. That being said, I don’t want anyone to think I’m some sort of dork who can’t have a good time. I’ve done drugs before. I listen to Charlie XCX. A lot. But it’s not like I'm not on the other side of the spectrum either, which I assume is playing Magic the Gathering in the local library next to a queer graphic novel display. That ain’t me.
Look, I just feel like – as a queer, trans woman in the UK who came out at a time when TransAmerica was considered ‘positive representation’, I’ve more than earned the right to celebrate Pride in whatever way I feel most comfortable - which for me this year, was going to Westfield mall with my boyfriend to buy a new dress and eat shawarma in the food court. ‘Representation’ has never really been an option for me (or most visibly trans people for that matter). I don’t need a dedicated day to feel ‘out’. It’s my default now.
In my opinion, going to Westfield mall in Stratford as a trans woman is always going to be a fiercely brave and transgressive act of gay defiance and liberation. I didn’t just go to Westfield on Pride – I queered Westfield. I used women’s changing rooms and ladies' toilets in a Westfield on a busy Sunday, with my head held high. When people stared at me in the smoking area, I stared back, not breaking eye contact until they did. When I overheard people making transphobic comments on the train into Stratford, right behind me, I laughed it off – you know why? Because I like shopping. A lot. I’m not going to allow some unimaginative transphobia ruin shopping for me.
Westfield is an oppressively straight place to be. It’s capitalism, undiluted – and capitalism exists, primarily, to serve straight society. And yet, there I was, inside the belly of that beast, proving that trannies can also own a debit card.
You hear a lot of queer people disavow Pride because it’s lost touch with its political foundations. They say “Pride is a protest”. So really, if you think about it, isn’t protesting Pride itself the ultimate form of Pride? Blowing off the official London Pride celebration to go to Westfield instead is actually so cunt, if you think about it.
For the record, I do hope that Pride becomes less corporatized. It does need to get back to its roots of rebellion. We aren’t going to make any meaningful progress if we aren’t willing to make ourselves heard and risk ‘being annoying’ to straight society. Heck, maybe if it gets back to that I will start going. But I’ll tell you one place I hope never becomes less corporate?
Westfield.
Also, check out this short film I made about pride. And why not subscribe, also?