London’s Best Last Gay Bars
By Rosey Mitchell
The queer scene in London has changed dramatically since I first started drinking in gay bars. In the last decade we have made important steps towards equal rights here in the U.K, including the legalisation of Gay Marriage and other important and progressive changes to the way we consider members of minority groups and the LGBTQI community. We have watched this country become more aware, accepting and understanding than ever before.
And yet I find myself asking ‘where have all the gay bars gone?’ Has our society become so accepting of the LGBTQI community that we no longer even have a need for gay bars? Surely, in our modern society all bars should be “gay”, or at least “gay friendly”, right?... No. Personally, I think if you believe that, then you’ve missed the point about what gay bars mean within our community, and you’re missing out.
Have we subconsciously killed the scene ourselves with dating apps? Where we would once go out on the “pull” or even just go and make queer friends in LGBTQI bars, do we now do this idly with a swipe - making “friends” with followers and feeling part of a bigger community from the comfort of our homes? Why would we bother to go out, when we can achieve all of this, and still be watching TV in our pyjamas? Possibly, however I don’t think it’s all down to our modern-day conveniences.
While researching gay bars, I came across a piece in the Guardian stating that between 2000 – 2016 151 London gay bars and queer clubs shut down. One hundred and fifty one! Between 2005 – 2015 an enormous 1400 London clubs (gay and otherwise) closed their doors. That includes The Joiners Arms, Madame JoJo’s, The George & Dragon and Candy Bar - some of the greatest, often devoured by rapidly growing developments and stifling rent increases.
However, it hasn’t always been like this. I used to love London for its big gay, sprawling, after-dark landscape and this is usually where I could be found.
If we take it back a decade the scene was thriving. Soho was still alive with queer bars on every street and corner. If dancing from Thursday through to Monday was your jam you could do it in Vauxhall. Head East and there were fashionable, promoted party nights popping up all over the shop, all called something incredibly witty that made you want to go on just their name alone. In 2009 Dalston Superstore was just about to open, shining a great big rainbow light on something we didn’t realise we were missing until it opened.
This is around the time I started roaming the scene. Soho was where I spent a lot of my younger years. It felt to me, at the time, completely larger than life. This powerful non-stop party force sometimes actually became just that. Candy Bar in Soho was the first gay bar I ever stepped foot in. It even had it’s own reality TV show and if you want a painful yet very entertaining look into lesbian life from the last decade - dig it out. Candy Bar looked like a very close rendition of how gay bars are portrayed in films by directors who have never stepped foot in a gay bar. Everything seemed polished and shiny and there were poles for dancing on. Despite its quirks, it had an air of plastic sophistication and charm that kept us coming back for more. It was my first step towards understanding what was truly going on in this world, and it led me to the next place to be; Ruby’s.
Ruby’s was a night at Ku on a Tuesday and was the place to be seen in Soho. The basement bar of the venue would become so full the party spilled onto Lisle Street with many people (including myself) not even bothering to head downstairs as it was far easier to do the rounds, flirt, talk and breath up on street level. If you did head downstairs, you could basically touch the ceiling and that’s the only personal space you’d get until 3am when you were eventually able to leave. Ruby’s was class and really does hold some of my best memories.
Then came Dalston Superstore. Superstore with its continuous beats, playing songs until the early hours that you’ve never heard before, and already knew at the same time. The air was so thick with the night’s antics, it trickled down the walls as you danced. It is the definition of cool but still somehow on the edge, pulling everyone into it to get lost. You are guaranteed to bump into an ex.
I will always remember my first time there. It was NYE and they had a night on called Gutterslut. It was slammed. Everyone was dressed up and towering over me, and I’m pretty certain someone looking incredibly like Leigh Bowery was floating effortlessly above me attached to balloons. (The latter might have happened, or that could have just been my state of mind at the time... Either way I was still sold on the place). Dalston Superstore soon became host to my favourite club night of all time - Twat Boutique. They really knew how to throw a party, pulling in DJs like Robyn, La Roux and Peaches to name just a few.
Superstore has this amazing ability to be something completely brand new and exciting every time you enter, yet also still makes you feel so at home. That magic is something that still exists there, and it remains one of the most welcoming queer spaces in London a decade on.
There are still some amazing gay bars open here in London. A select few institutions (G-A-Y, Fire, Royal Vauxhall Tavern) and other new spots with fresh nights, help shine a light of hope. There is still time to get out there and experience the magic of our city, instead of from behind a screen. Many people, especially the younger generation, could be missing out on how amazing it feels to have a space that is exclusive and special. Queer bars are always the most fun, and everyone wants to be a part of this party that can only exist in these spaces. You can’t recreate the feeling you get when you’re in this; it is different, it is special. But if you’ve never been, you won’t know what you’re missing, right? Supporting these surviving venues that work hard to support our community may be the difference between seeing the gay scene thrive once more, or seeing the closure statistics continue to rise.