Scene 43 massive inflatable willies screaming at the excitement of close proximity with a homo. A recipe for hell. If you identified as gay that is. There was a time when a brave venue or two produced signage to discourage the welcome of a stag or hen party, but these were thought not to be inclusive and surely equality means all pile in anytime, right?
Craig’s Thoughts
Sometimes you’re not invited. And that’s life By Craig Hanlon-Smith
@craigscontinuum
) The intention of inclusion for all is an honest one. Having grown up with a feeling of exclusion from mainstream society, I understand the heartfelt simplicity of its opposite. In education the path of exclusion rarely ends well. If a young person behaves in such a way that the solution is seen to be an exclusion, how is that a problem ever resolved? Surely it’s better to navigate an improvement in behaviour from within. To understand consequence and recovery, we will all have to navigate our way through together, rarely if ever, in isolation. And so include, always, everyone, every time. Not so fast. Remember when we used to go to bars. Gay bars? And do you remember when there were people from the gay scene in them? Granted at the moment bars would just love to be in a position to have people in them and I appreciate the business sentiment there. For a time, gay was an all-encompassing term that included anyone who turned up and we just got on with it. Gay men were queers too and those of an age will remember the Outrage Queer as Fuck campaign of the early 1990s, later made famous by Jason Donovan suing The Face magazine for reporting on a campaign poster that may have included his image. The judgement in his favour smacked of homophobia and almost brought down a magazine that couldn’t afford the financial decision awarded to La Donovan. Remember they were reporting on a campaign, not
questioning Mr Donovan’s heterosexual nature. But win he did, because there’s nothing more damaging than being called a queer. Or perhaps even gay, not that anyone is gay these days.
“There was a time when a brave venue or two produced signage to discourage the welcome of a stag or hen party, but these were thought not to be inclusive and surely equality means all pile in anytime, right?” The scene formerly known as gay changed significantly in the Millennium age. I blame mid-90s Channel 4 extravaganza Queer As Folk. Damn Russell T Davies and the production team for making those bars look so much fun. The eclectic nights out with gay boys and girls, drag queens and gender benders amid chrome stairways and dancing neon. Manchester’s gay strip of bars, which was largely invented overnight in between two long established gay pubs by a couple of business peeps with a lorra cash became the go-to mecca on a weekend night out for everyone. My hetrometer of a brother and his mates used to always love a night out down Canal Street ‘because we don’t get any bother there from dick-heads’. Groups of lads were followed by groups of girls and Brighton had its own challenges as it became the go-to destination for a stag and hen weekend. The boys would come into the bars for a dare and the girls armed with their
No. Not really. Certainly in a place of employment, equal opportunities does not mean treating everyone the same. Some have to be given more time, more encouragement, more support or direction to ensure the opportunity is equal. It may seem to some that all of those spaces and systems created for ‘the other’ are unfair or an imbalance. Sometimes we need to make a special space for ‘the other’ that is exclusive to them or at the very least leans to a bias for a particular clientele. It’s okay to want to be with your kind and not harassed by a gaggle of drunk people dressed in pretend wedding attire with flashing penis deely boppers on their heads. Before closing its doors in London to the next luxury apartment developer, the owners of the XXL brand appeared to earn the ire of some for specifying their dress code to not include any femininity in the attire, particularly heels. I love nothing more than squeezing myself into a high-cut brief, fishnets and six-inch heels for a flamboyant night out (no shirt – obvs), but if that’s not the deal at XXL, that is okay. Jeans and trainers it is. The club has a flavour, an edge and it wants to protect its (extremely successful) brand. And that’s okay. If you’re offended by the ‘no-heels’ dress code – babe, you need to get out more. (No cruelty intended I know we can’t technically go out anywhere much). There isn’t really a gay club in Brighton anymore to speak of. There isn’t really a ‘mainstream club’ for the LGBTQ+ community, not that this is a homogenous group in itself, although we do somewhat unsuccessfully try to make it so. Club Revenge at the weekend had become a throng of young straight women, all clearly inspired by Little Mix but with slightly better make-up with an insatiable desire to have a night out in a ‘gay-club’. In the weeks before lockdown, I used to walk past that queue late on a Friday and Saturday night and think – they’re all going to be so disappointed when they get into this gay club. There aren’t any gays in it. There are times when I want to hang out with my gay boys. I refuse to apologise for that. There are times when I don’t care who I’m hanging out with because there are times when Me, Myself and I have different needs and desires that can sometimes be satisfied and sometimes not. Wanting some exclusivity with my brothers isn’t about excluding others. It is about a shared experience, a shorthand of understanding and appreciation. At times it is an absolute necessity. If that offends you. When we’re allowed. Get out more.
