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Pride London

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The parade en route to Trafalgar Square (x)
This weekend was London Pride and I, for the first time, went along. It wasn’t only my first London Pride, but indeed my first ever Pride. So, naturally, I was excited and ridiculously nervous as I took the train into the city.





I was arriving pretty early to meet up with a friend, but still I couldn’t help wondering if anyone else on my train was heading to the same destination as me. There was a distinct lack of rainbow flags, sparkles and fabulous head gear in my carriage, but there were a few suspects around. However, not being one to stereotype, I decided to think about other things.

It didn’t take long to get into London, and once I arrived I took the underground to Embankment. Not far outside the station I got my first glimpse of the comforting sight of a stall selling a variety of different rainbow flags. I had definitely come to the right place.

In Trafalgar Square things were already happening. Some of the stalls were already open for business and music was blaring from the stage. There were people singing outside the faith and spirituality tent, and a little further along a drag queen was handing out cardboard tiaras to passer-bys. Along the parade route there were police and stewards getting into position, and metal barriers were being lined up down Regent’s Street. The air was filled with excitement, and a building rush of anticipation.

I met up with my friend in Piccadilly Circus, and after a rushed lunch and a cooling drink (it was really hot outside) we headed back to Trafalgar Square to look at the stalls, pick up stickers (my favourite part was the abundance of free stickers), bedeck ourselves in rainbow flags and find a spot to sit and watch the performances on stage.

The afternoon was spent revelling in the glorious sunshine and admiring the sparkly, outrageous and fabulous outfits around us. It also served up all those wonderful Pride stereotypes. A pair of men wearing only their underwear danced onstage and yet another drag queen regaled the (by now sizeable crowds) with a rousing rendition of Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend, accompanied by the London Gay Big Band. It was all utterly fantastic.

But of course, Pride isn’t just about the celebration, it is also a protest, something we would be reminded of as we watched the parade. Before we could watch the parade, however, we had to get somewhere we could see. Easier said than done.

Crowds. People. A mass of bodies. Sticky sweat hot shoving forwards. Utter chaos. Finding a viewing spot was difficult. Even walking down the street was difficult the crowds at the barriers were so deep. Eventually, however, we managed to jam ourselves in beside a phone box and behind a rowdy group of people who seemed to know everyone in the parade.

Because it took so long to get down the road we’d missed the beginning of the parade, but we were there in time to see one of London’s famous red double decker buses go through, celebrating the recent victories for marriage equality in other countries and the impending arrival of equal marriage to the UK. We also saw a plethora of different religious communities, and a cluster of Microsoft employees in wheelbarrows. It was quite a spectacle.

And there was the protest element. As well as those with political banners, many people in the parade held placards protesting against the treatment of late school teacher Lucy Meadows by the press. It was these particular members of the parade that provided a chilling reminder of both the origins of Pride, and the reason that we still need the visibility that it can provide. There is a reason that we keep fighting and protesting and demanding our equal rights.

But of course, I wasn’t there to spend the afternoon dwelling on the bad, I was there to celebrate the good, and in the hot summer sun, surrounded by friends, it was the easiest thing in the world to think about all the best things in life.

After the parade we went to nearby St James’ park to soak up the warmth and beauty of the day, still bedecked in rainbows and with smiles on our faces. If there is one thing that Pride made me feel, it was incredibly, proudly happy. Even odd looks from a couple on the train and the taken aback, seemingly judgemental attitude of my dad couldn’t dampen my high spirits.

With hind sight there was only one thing I would have done differently, so my advice to you all is this. If and when you take to the streets in the blazing sun of June to express your pride, always remember to wear sunscreen.
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