Pride in the Park (26 July 2003)

My how time flies! It doesn't seem a year since I was last enjoying the London Gay Mardi Gras. Oh, hang on, it was only a year. D'oh! Well this year saw me in a sexy outfit, kinky boots, stockings… nothing new here then…
Angela was over for the weekend and decided to don a blue PVC skirt and some very strappy, very high heels. Perfect for traipsing around in a park *not*, but she wouldn't be told. Trannies can get very attached to their shoes, you know. And so to London. We boarded the tube in Richmond at which point two girls sat down opposite us. 'Looks like we're all off to the same place then!' exclaimed one and the ice was broken. The nearer we got to Hyde Park, the more like-minded folk joined the tube until there reached a point when there were probably more LGBT people on the tube than heterosexual ones. Which brings me neatly to my favourite t-shirt slogan seen at Pride: Heterosexuality isn't NORMAL… It's just COMMON!
Here's the stage at Pride with Liberty X performing. I also managed to see Gina G (Ooh, Aah, Just a little bit…) and a few other acts. The line-up for Pride in the Park, as last year, was very good, well at least to my tastes it was, it's just a shame that the microphones didn't seem to be working all the time so many of the acts were left no option other than to mime to their songs…
	Now in case you are wondering exactly what the expression on my face in this picture here is supposed to be saying, let's just say that you see some interesting sights (tranny and otherwise) at Pride and leave it at that…!
	<- Here I am by the stage awaiting my good friend Graham Norton who somehow manages to escape my claws this year. And I would have found him too if the rain hadn't started to fall…
But it wasn't rain stopped play for us. As we were wandering around visiting some of the shops that were plying their goods, we bumped into none other than the lovely Karol Cross and her girlfriend Kirsty. And just to prove that rain can't dampen the spirits of true blood transvestites, here's a trio of tarty t*girls (well I can't really speak for Karol or Angela but the alliteration is nice). Actually I think we look like we should be at some posh horse-racing event like Ascot. Then again maybe not. Maybe high society isn't ready for 7 inch heels, knee-high boots and short skirts. More fool them I say. The shame of it was that I had to dash back to Hounslow to DJ at the Rabar. Not that that is a shame in itself, but I'm sure there were lots of other t*girlfriends at the party in the park that I didn't manage to bump into. Still, there's always next year (and the year after, and the year after that, you get the idea).
And so back on the tube to return Chez Valentine for a quick G&T and a change of shoes and hairstyle (in my case) and outfit (in Angela's case) and a couple more photos. Note the umbrellas in the background. I recall that it rained for London Pride last year, and the Brighton one was a complete wash-out. Now either John Kettley (weatherman for non UK viewers) is les-, gay-, bi- and trans-phobic, or it's just that summer in the UK is exactly the wrong time to plan any kind of outdoor event.
Unfortunately, the roof of my flat was so weighed down by all the rain that it started to collapse. Good job Angela was there to hold it up. In case you were wondering, the former is completely untrue but it does describe the picture quite well. And on to the Rabar where I have to say, as far as my endless modesty will permit (ahem), I played a totally blinding set (though I had been planning my post-Pride Party performance for quite some weeks). Maybe I should relax with a few drinks more often when I'm DJing, though in previous years mixing DJing and drinking led to some pretty odd occasions: Not least when one disco finished (as, ironically on two counts, 'Don't stop me now' by Queen was playing) when I staggered and fell over and was unable to stand up to play the next tune. Oddest of all was that I got two further bookings from that event as the people who were there enjoyed it immensely. Maybe they were more drunk that I was! Finally made it home about midnight and after three days in a row of being out partying, vowed not to never ever do it again. At least until next week. See you again then no doubt.

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