I have been attending San Francisco’s Gay Pride celebrations since I was a spry blond twink at age 15. Now, as a brunette who is gently transitioning out of his twinkie days (rest in peace, highlights), I no longer find myself in the position of the wide-eyed Pride newbie — I’m a slightly wizened veteran. I’ve seen — if not all — at least a lot of what makes San Francisco’s Pride special — Dykes on Bikes whipping out tools to help other Dykes on Bikes with their ignitions; drag queens in various states of cosmetic disrepair after excessive sun damage to their maquillage; EVERY kind of human body in every state of undress (nudity: it’s not just for every day in San Francisco). Whether it’s your first time or you’re a returning champ, here are a few tips for how to do Pride right. Let’s talk about the parties, the parade, the neighborhood scenes, and everything in between.
People from all around the world come to our Pride. Australians are always good for a few laughs; Europeans usually feel right at home wherever they land in the festivities; and I’ve yet to see anyone outdrink an Israeli (part of their military training?). I firmly believe it’s our duty as San Franciscans to make visitors at Pride feel welcome. If a person travels more than 3,000 miles to get here, they should at least get a smile; and if they travel more than 6,000 miles, they should get a closed-mouth kiss that lasts between five and ten seconds. Be helpful when people have questions throughout the week. Tell them when the peak hours of activity are at Bi-Rite; suggest that they avoid Fisherman’s Wharf; and invite them to that thing tomorrow at the new bar in the Excelsior. Who knows — sometimes they might reciprocate with an invitation to a hot foreigner party at the Phoenix. Oh, and bring a friend with you to any hot foreigner parties you attend — Pride week lives or dies with the buddy system.
There’s nothing worse than self-entitled visitors to Pride who ruin the party for the rest of us. You know the kind I’m talking about — rude, mini-mall-shopping, “Why are the streets so crowded?” gape-and-gawk-at-gays out-of-towners. Avoid these types at all costs — some people shouldn’t feel welcome.
If you want to see the gays at our best, see us dressed up. For six years, the best San Francisco Pride Party has been Mark Rhoades’s annual Pride Kickoff (which went down last week).
New on the scene is The Bold Italic’s very own Big Gay Birthday on Friday, June 28. We’ll be celebrating not just Pride but also the gayest city in the world’s (I don’t care where the Advocate magazine ranks us; I know of what I speak) birthday at the historic Old Mint. If you’ve never been to a party at one of my favorite Havisham-esque venues, you have no excuse for missing this one. Add one part Hard French DJs, two parts drag queens squeezing into a Fiesta Photobooth, a dash of Playland game vault, and stir and garnish with a special Silent Frisco Silent Disco room, and you have a fabulous new way to start your Pride weekend. San Francisco may be 237 this year, but my dear, she doesn’t look a day over 168.
The Castro is always swamped with people around Pride week who usually don’t frequent the neighborhood, whether they’re visitors or San Franciscans who venture here only once a year. Even after all these Prides, there’s still something to be said for being in the center of it all. While bars in the Castro are almost impossible to get into on Pink Saturday, the usually very genre-specific SoMa bars and clubs become a little more vanilla for the night and are full of gays fleeing the Castro crowds. There’s nothing like heritage-brand hipsters and madras-clad preppies dancing side by side with leather daddies and guys wearing T-shirts that say things like “Sleaze” and “Filth” without irony. El Rio is usually the best spot for Pink Saturday and Pride Sunday in the Mission, and over the past few years, a sort of localized extension of the big party on Castro has wandered over the hill and into some of the bars on Divisadero, yielding a much less crowded, more relaxed vibe. Polk Street on a Pride weekend feels to me like the Castro probably used to feel in the early days of the celebration, based on what I’ve seen in Tales of the City and Milk — the dancing is a little sweatier; the crowd is a little less homogenized; and the music is just that much louder. Think of Polk and the Tenderloin scene as “Pride without the official corporate sponsor.” Downtown and Civic Center become jam-packed after the parade, so stop by in the wee hours of Pink Saturday/Pride Sunday as the police barricades go up and revel in its emptiness before the throngs arrive with sunrise.
This has always been one of my favorite Pride celebrations. I love my lesbian sisters and think they get overlooked too often in the gay-male-dominated world of Pride. The march is Saturday evening of Pride weekend and starts at Dolores Park with speakers and performances. Then, it ends up in the Castro to kick off the Pink Party. This year is the Dyke March’s 21st, so it can now legally drink. If you don’t want to march, just stay on the sidewalk for some of the best sign-spotting this side of any picket. Last year’s favorite sign award goes to the brave man with the “I may not be a lesbian but my haircut is” placard. I agreed — the haircut had easily been with more women than he had.
The Trans March on Friday at Dolores Park is a smaller but nonetheless important community event for trans and “gender non-conforming people.”
If there’s ever been an excuse to break into your dress-up trunk (nine out of ten San Franciscans have a dress-up trunk — the tenth guy has a closet), Pride festivities are it. I’ve seen Wonder Women (a few of which were not gay men), SpongeBob/Tinky Winky couplings (remember when cartoons were gay?), Chers, Lizas, Village People, club kids, burners, dandies, period-costume enthusiasts (mad props to the Oscar Wilde look-alike who braved the heat three years ago), and every possible wardrobe subculture you can think of. If you have a pair of jewel-encrusted platforms you’ve been saving for a special occasion, this is the time! Speaking of jewel encrusted, the best costumes at Pride are usually topical, so this year be on the lookout for Liberace, Arrested Development groupings, newly out NBA star Jason Collins, Margaret Thatcher and Michelle Bachman (for the irony). Back to the platforms — there’s no shame in bringing a pair of flats to change into, and, since this is San Francisco, I suggest a costume with layers in case the weather takes a turn.
In a typical San Francisco move, we’ve managed to kick a hornet’s nest by inviting, then disinviting, and now possibly reinviting Iraq War whistle-blower and former U.S. Army specialist Bradley Manning to be the grand marshal of this year’s Pride festivities. Who knows where the situation will be by the time Pride weekend comes, but one thing is certain — San Franciscans will still be passionately debating it. The question that will likely undo more potential Pride matches this year will not be Madonna vs. Gaga but “Where do you stand on Bradley Manning?” — much to my relief.
For years, the best place to watch the parade was on the top floor of the old Virgin Megastore on Market and Stockton. Now that it’s a Forever 21, the view remains the same, but the music has taken a turn for the worse. Any access to roofs and windows on Market Street should be taken advantage of, but if you don’t mind the crowds, wade into the throngs on the sidewalk and meet your fellow Pride-goers. The two givens that you should pack are sunscreen and bottled water — lines at stores are usually long during parade time. The parade itself seems to have gotten progressively longer as the years have gone by (every corporation that thinks even one gay person might give it business has a float), but the classic Dykes on Bikes, Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence and Gay Marching Band are always worth waiting for.
And I’m not talking about a rainbow tattoo or new houseboy. One year, a cable channel known for its gay-themed programming tossed condoms and packets of lube from its float with the channel’s logo on the front. Another year, a porn studio threw Mardi Gras–style beads that were shaped like … a different kind of bead. Everything from false eyelashes to Speedos gets tossed from the floats as souvenirs. If you’re in throwing distance toward the beginning of the route, you can make off with a pretty good haul. Anything you don’t like, you can always regift to your more conservative relatives at Christmas.
Happy homo-ing, Pride goers. And remember, on Gay Pride weekend, everyone is a little gay — you know, like in college.
Design: Juan Leguizamon
