Behind them, a large window is fogged over, the lights of the Sky Tower barely discernible through the haze. In the moisture, someone has used their finger to write a word in huge, loopy writing on the glass pane: Sapphic.
I only really came to grips with my queerness last year, and I still feel nervous entering queer spaces, haunted by the perennial questions of the freshly-out: Do I belong here? Is this for me? Am I queer, enough? Without the hulking statures of the male populace, I can see all the way from one side of the room to the other, from the friends taking selfies on an old digital camera to the throuple violently making out against the back wall.
This is how I manage to spot someone I know across the bar. The politeness of queer women really makes you wonder why we accept less from anyone else. Drinks in-hand, we rejoin the crowd. April is part of the collective behind Sapphic Sounds, five non-binary and queer women who first met at a DJ competition in late Dior, Luke, Olivia, Victoria and Nina our aforementioned Mullets.
No one was prepared for the first event to be such a success. We had no idea so many people would come. I think people really wanted that. For our community, these places can feel no less than sacred: offering us a rare opportunity to let loose without worrying about safety or being sexualised. Alongside another Sapphic Sounds night set for June 30, the team also want to run more low-key community-building and networking events. April heads up the stairs, while myself and my gaggle of gays make our way to the bathroom.
The line, of course, is astronomical. This is some text inside of a div block. Text Link. Emily Draper May 15, Going Out.
