21/09/13: We’d heard the news about XXL – gay extravaganza, vast cavernous arches where the bears and the sizzlers come out to let their fur down – but we’d yet to dip our magenta-painted toenail in its muscular waters.
Rocking up on top of a hot jock we’d paid pocket money to piggyback us from the tube station to the club (it’s the heels), we came face to face with the mother of all snaking queues stretching down to the Southwark Bridge. But after a couple of sweet sugared words, an all-too suggestive blowjob pout and a flutter of our false eyelashes with security we were ushered in through the rear entry, for a change.
Inside, we found a big butch bears’ picnic of sizzling beats (we flung open the doors and strutted in to Kylie from the godlike DJ’s elevated booth, and we knew from the first five seconds we were spiritually home), truly hot guys galore and an atmosphere so welcoming and inviting it made even our battle-hardened shard of a heart temporarily soften, as we placed our peacock-feather fan across our lips to staunch the lipsticked acidic quips.
Because, amongst the packed dancefloor of soaring, spinning lights and attractive mavericks, everyone could be who they wanted; a granddad in hot pants was doing the honky tonky on a podium; guys who didn’t succumb to body fascism were dancing for the fun; everyone was smiling and relaxed.
Wandering through Pulse’s heaving halls, we saw the chillout room with the floating purple balloons, the real picnic that had been spread out in Room 2 with its song tunes and feather-boa divas, and we thought ‘yes, this has what we’ve been looking for.’
Pulse, 1 Invicta Plaza, Southwark, SE1 9UF
Words by Jackie Jockstrap
Photos by Chris Jepson
