Channel SelectorChannel PFab Gay Summer

My First Gay Pride

A-levels were finally over, and I was free from school. During that year I had come from dreading going to school, to being confident again. But now I was free. Andy had spent most of his revision time getting a costume ready for Pride, and had got a fab Sari to wear. I just wore a tiny pair of white-denim hot-pants that I'd got in Gap. I had a skimpy waist coat to go on top, and a pair of boots. I used to wax my legs and had applied a generous serving of fake tan. It's funny, I had been using fake tan more and more often during 1994/1995 until I had got to the point where I had a permanent tan - but I used even more just for good measure at Pride.

Pride was fantastic. I had such a good time. There were so many gay people in the same place. I thought I knew it all: I'd had 2 long term relationships, plenty of casual sex (which I conveniently left out of my coming-out story.. I'll have to add the missing passages later. I wasn't as honest when I wrote it as I am now. I used to think casual sex was bad, and so didn't write about it... it wasn't important to the story, but it did happen, so I'd like to add it in when I have the time), and I'd gone to a gay youth group. I was so confident about myself and my look. But going to Pride was just amazing: it was such an eye opener. I was out to everybody, so wasn't even slightly nervous. I had arranged to go with Andy, but by coincidence bumped into my mother and her friend at Hyde Park. We also bumped into Andy's sister. Being there and seeing family members & friends was such a contrast to the days when I was still in the closet at school - It was just amazing. We met loads of people and I must have kissed several men on the way.

After the march we went straight to the gathering in the park, which was so much bigger than I'd expected. I'd heard of Pride before that year, but it was great to see such a big sea of people. There was a huge stage and free fair-ground rides. I have always loved fair-ground rides (never ever scary enough), and I had a great time. After that we went to G.A.Y where I pulled a guy on the dance floor. Shocking behaviour.

We really did dance the night away: I was in such a state the next day. If this was a sign of what was to come, then life was going to be good.

Before being sent over to Tokyo we had three days training in London. A guy would be coming with me to Tokyo, whilst the others would be going on the New-York program. I'd been partying for the previous 2 weeks starting with Pride and then my birthday, and so having to suddenly get up in the mornings was rude shock. As a result I was super-subdued, and gave everyone the impression that I was quiet.

I was early and watched the others as they came in. One of the guys was really really cute and I wanted it to be him who would be going to Tokyo. And it was! Yvo, otherwise know as Superman: I had a crush on him for such a long time. Anyway, the training in London was fine - some of the other interns seemed interesting and next thing I knew I was with Yvo on a plane to Tokyo.

We were put in a hotel the first night. Yvo had been told that the third and final intern was in the same hotel, and so we went on a mission to find her. We did, but she was really cold, and didn't seem to want to go get dinner with us, so we went out to try to find something alone. I was only 19 then, and hadn't had to fend for myself before, so it was quite something to have to do it in Tokyo for the first time.

The next morning was awful because we had to go straight to work. The joys of Monday mornings - with the added bonus of 8 hours jet-lag. Thank god I don't get jet-lag anymore, because it was horrible. At the end of the day we were taken back to the hotel, and then to our apartments. I couldn't believe it. We had an apartment each, and since there were only 3 apartments per floor, it meant we had the whole floor. We were in Roppongi, which is in central Tokyo. If this was the real world, then it was pretty damn good. I used to get £20 a week pocket money (including lunch money), and now suddenly I'd had a flight to Japan, an apartment AND an amazing salary.

The first few days were as exciting as they were scary. Not scary because we were in some far and foreign culture, but because we couldn't find the super-market. We hadn't met any English speakers in the apartment building, and nobody in the streets of Roppongi (which is most definitely an entertainment district, rather than a residential area) seemed

to know where there was on. We had amazingly long hours. (A quick aside: It always makes me laugh when people talked to me about how hard life in the "real world" would be after finishing my studies. Seriously, 9 times out of 10 their office hours were shorter than the hours I'd worked during my summer jobs - who were they to tell me what it would be like in the real world) . Yvo started a little before us: at 6:30 a.m., and we didn't finish till 7 p.m., so didn't have the time nor energy to look around for cheap super-markets. And that's why it was scary: we were in one of the most expensive areas of central Tokyo, and eating out every meal. In the first 6 days I'd spent the first week's salary. Not good. I'd expected to have lots of money left over, and suddenly I thought I'd end up with nothing. In the end we found a super-market and spending was brought back under control.

One evening in the first week we stayed in and chatted. I told Laca (the other intern who we soon nicknamed Laca-bitch: Say it quickly and it sounds like a Russian name) & Yvo that I was gay - and they were both cool about it. They were the first people I'd told since coming-out at school, and it was such a relief to see their reactions. I was not about to go back in the closet, but at the same time, the reaction at school had been hard work at first, so I was a little apprehensive about tell them. But, in the event, it was fine. Yvo said he had suspected I was gay from the beginning (he earns no prizes for that; I had fancied him from the moment I first saw him, and couldn't have been very subtle about it). He was relieved when I came out and that it was out in the open - and it allowed us to become friends.

random guy, Laca, Superman and TouristP

We might have been working hard, but we were also partying hard. Many nights we would go out and explore Tokyo. It showed that none of us had had to fend for ourselves because we hadn't thought of buying a guide book. Even when we were there we didn't buy one. There was a funky bookshop on one of the cross roads which didn't seem to close till 10 p.m. so we'd often pop in there and look at the magazines or books to see what there was to do.

There was a phone number I'd been given on the instructions. It said that someone would come and pick me up from the station if I called, so I called before I got there, and again when I arrived. Sure enough, moments later a young chap came and lead me to the bar GB. I naively thought it stood for Great Britain - in a sign that foreigners were particularly welcome. I'd heard all sorts of stupid stories about foreigners not being welcome in gay bars in Japan, so I thought it was perfectly obvious what GB stood for. It was only years later that I was told that it stood for "gay boy". Oh well. Anyway, GB has a policy which makes you buy a drink as you arrive, so there disappeared another 700 yen.

I took my half coke and went and sat at the bar. I looked around and realised I had no idea who would be considered good looking, and who wouldn't. Nearly everyone looked the same. It was the same at the office, mind you - for the first week or so I thought the secretary looked EXACTLY like my boss . I just didn't know that many East Asian people, so all I could see were the obvious differences. It's amazing, but the end of my 1-month stay I was amazed that I had been unable to differentiate people at the beginning. It clearly was just a case of not being used to seeing many Asian people (in the same way as I used to think all of Renoir's paintings looked the same, until I'd seen some a few times). THE POINT IS that my trip to the bar was at the beginning of my stay, and so although they didn't look all the same, they did all look very similar. So not only was I a little shy (it was my first time in a bar alone, after all), but I also didn't know who I should try to pull, and who I shouldn't. I thought I was considered fairly good looking back in London and didn't want to end up with someone who wasn't considered good looking in Tokyo. Isn't that awful? I cringe when I think of that now, but at the time I was arrogant enough to think like that. I could hardly speak any Japanese at all, so if I met someone it wasn't going to be a case of having a deep and meaningful conversation.

I sat there for a while, and before I had finished my drink a guy (T) came up to me and asked in English if it was OK for him to talk to me. That's so considerate, but at the time I thought it was a little bit strange. We talked for a little bit, and I said the few Japanese sentences that I was capable of saying. He suggested we go to another bar, which we did. The new bar was obviously somewhere he'd been before, because he knew the bar-man. It was much more expensive than the previous one (about 900 yen for a coke = £4.50). His friend the barman told him in Japanese that he should pay for my drink, but he didn't. I hadn't understood the Japanese, but the tone of voice, the eye movements, and the guy's reaction made it obvious what the exchange was about. I was quite surprised that he didn't pay, because he'd suggested we go there. At one point he went to the toilet and his friend asked me if I fancied T. I didn't really know if I did or not (which I now know means I didn't really) but this was his friend, so I said yes. He seemed surprised, and I was disappointed by that. Anyway, soon enough it was going home time - and he offered to walk me back to the station.

T came back with me to my place. I thought it was really exciting, and really hoped I'd bump into the other interns - but I didn't. I was with him for the wrong reasons: I was with him for the sake of it. But, it's what I wanted at the time. He was in his mid 20s, but was still living with his parents. He called home to say he wouldn't be back. I thought that was so sweet. A little strange considering he was so much older than me, but sweet.

He offered to come round on the following weekend to show the three of us around Tokyo, and we took him up on the offer. The other two thought he was really sweet - and we had a good time. I saw him only a couple more times after that, and he said I could stay with him a few days at the end of my trip (when we'd get kicked out of our accommodation). It was a mad month with us getting up early to go to work, but going out most nights to discover the city. We only had 4 weekends there, which actually isn't all that much.

My experience during my time there was completely different to the one I'd had with my family when we'd visited Japan before. We'd done all the touristy things, which is great - but that was only really scratching the surface of Japan. We'd not seen how Japanese people lived, nor where they hung out. During this second trip of mine we got to discover areas like Harajuku, Shibuya and Roppongi that I had no idea existed. In Harajuku they used to pedestrianise the street on Sundays so that Rock bands could play outside. It was mad, you'd get Japanese guys with long bleached hair. Others would look like Elvis. The stereotype used to be that the Japanese were all conformist - but I say bollocks to that. People who say that don't have a clue what they're talking about - and have clearly never gone to Japan. I think that the sense of individuality amongst young people in Japan is stronger than it is in the West. Now that I've spent more time in Japan - I've since lived there for a year, I think that even more than I did then. Shibuya (an entertainment district for the young) and lived in Roppongi (an entertainment district for the rich and for the girls who like foreigners) that I had no idea existed before. I was amazing. There was so much more to Japan than I'd imagined - and still I was only just scratching the surface.

It was a fantastic month - even if the work bored me senseless. I finished the month's assignments in half the time that was assigned for it, and as a result I got an amazing letter of recommendation. Actually it was quite funny because it was just *so* positive that it almost looks fake. Once the work was finished, I stayed with T for a few days before heading back to London. It was good to have some extra time to just hang out, although it was a little weird staying in the same room as him and his parents not knowing what was going on behind closed doors. He was really sweet, and showed me around Tokyo for my last remaining days.

Barbie, Zeina, Alisa, BlondP, Superman

The day itself was fab. I drove round to his place, and then we went to the theme park. He had a builder at his house, who was clearly shocked at the sight of me in drag. Once we arrived, it was so much fun. Everyone was looking at us. Andy was wearing the same blue suit he'd worn on the last day of school, but this time it seemed remarkably un-shocking. I'd never had so many people look at me - but because I was in a group of people, we thought it was funny rather than intimidating. It has to be said that I was full of confidence at that stage too. Coming out at school had been an ordeal, but we'd got through it. It really didn't seem as if anything was going to be a challenge after that. So that confidence helped too! We went on all the rides, and enjoyed all of them.

The one thing that really sticks in my mind of that time, was how free I felt. Nothing was seemed impossible - and I felt I could do whatever I wanted.

One day I remember specifically because it was the day I went to get a wig. On the tube back I remember seeing a cute guy and we got chatting. It was soon his stop, and so I got out and went back to his place. After "getting to know him", I left, and resumed my journey home. I hadn't got home, when there was someone else on the tube who I noticed looking at me. Sure enough, we got talking and before I knew it, I was back at his place. At the time I thought it was really bad, but I enjoyed doing it nevertheless.

I have no idea where this is...

In those days (ha ha, in those days. Saying it like that makes it seem as if it was a lifetime ago. It was only in 1995, so 5 years ago!) you had to do two of the three manoeuvres: driving round a corner, 3 point turn and parallel parking. I'd never managed to reverse round a corner with ending up on the wrong side of the road, and I couldn't parallel park. I knew the highway code well enough, but that was it. I went in "knowing" I was going to fail. I'd left some spare slots in my diary for the following week, so I could book some more driving lessons for afterwards. But in a complete fluke, I passed. For the first time ever, I successfully reversed round a corner, and parallel parked. For months afterwards I was unable to repeat that success when I'd wanted to park the car - but at the time of the driving test I passed. The Highway Code test was hysterical. The guy taking the test had a flip chart and randomly flipped some cards over, and I had to say what they meant. I think you got asked 3 random questions. And what were my questions? I got a stop sign, a no left turn, and a speed limit. It was so funny. I could have passed that section of the test before having studied the Highway Code!

Anyway, the upshot was that I had passed. When Andy and I had talked about our travel plans to my parents and his mother, they all thought we were being too ambitious. Now that I had my driving licence they realised that we were serious about it. Andy's mother asked to meet my parents to discuss it. They'd never met before, but she came over for tea. I'm sure she expected my parents to say they didn't want us to go - but they knew better! They'd desperately tried to talk me out of coming-out at school, but I hadn't paid any attention to that. I could be extremely stubborn then, and as far as I was concerned I was in control of my own life. There was no way I'd let them tell me that I could or couldn't do something. I'd fought many battles with them in the previous 5 years, and wasn't scared of fighting my corner. I had perfect grades at school, and was damn responsible. I knew it, they knew it. And that's why I usually won. As far as I saw things, they had no right to tell me what to do. In the past I'd even said that to my mother. Why shouldn't I go out at night on a school day? I had good grades, all my teachers loved me - I didn't drink alcohol, which for an 19-year-old was unusual.

again, somewhere in France...

I'd fought many battles, and so they knew better than to try to tell me not to go on this driving holiday to Spain. I was going to go irrespective of what they said. So they were practical about things. This was going to happen, they wanted to make sure we realised the risks, and had a sensible plan. Which we did. We had planned to do 2 hours driving in the morning, then two in the afternoon per day. Which meant 1 hour for me, and one for him - twice a day. Not too much, even for a beginner driver. It was such a fantastic holiday. We stopped off in so many little villages. We stopped off in Paris and stayed with my grand parents. Before we went, my grand father asked my mother if Andy and I wanted a double bed, or two single beds. I was so impressed by him asking that question. My mother had told them that I was gay and they had taken it very well. When we did arrive, we had SO much luggage. Both of us were really into the cosmetic thing. We had face masks, moisturiser, fake tan, and any number of other bottles. I'd literally taken all my summer clothes as well as lots of drag clothes. I had some feather bowers too. Anyway, one of my cousins, she must have been about 13, came in whilst we were unpacking. She tried on all my drag clothes. It was so much fun. Paris had been our first stop, and we were loving every minute of it.

We stayed in some pretty small places, and it really brought home to us how lucky we were to live in a big city back at home. The places were wonderful to look at - but to live there? Jeez, no thanks. We spent most of the holiday getting changed and going out, rather than doing any real sight seeing. I should qualify that a little, we did do some sightseeing, but we would get changed into "sightseeing clothes" after we'd arrived, and then come back to get changed into evening clothes. It was funny seeing the reaction of the people who saw us, especially in the small towns. In Avignion I was wearing my hotpants that I'd worn at pride. Compared to the drag, it seemed really normal - but people would stop and stare. We found that so amazing because we genuinely didn't think we were wearing anything controversial!

Catherdral designed by Gaudi

We checked out some of the bars and clubs. We followed the Sarticus guide, and our first stop was "a must see for the international visitor". Excuse me? Was that a "must see"??? You have got to be kidding. We found ourselves in an awful seedy nearly empty old-fashioned leather bar. Yuck. We left immediately.

We finally made it to a half decent club, where we danced our tits off. We were in drag and we had to walk past a match of something. Once someone had noticed us, the whole match stopped. It wasn't in a stadium or anything, but it was so impressive for us to see the match stop. As we walked away we could still hear the guys clapping and wolf-whistling. We got such a buzz out of that.

The club we ended up in was quite fun. We danced for a while, and then a guy came up to us. We couldn't speak Spanish, and his English was very funny. He danced with both Andy and I, and eventually we went up stairs to the balcony to dance. His friend was the DJ, or club organiser or something, so we were allowed on the balcony - which was a lot of fun. He wanted us to do some strange sexy-dancing thing, which neither of us really understood, but we gave it our best shot. The club came to an end, and we wanted to lure him back to our place... It was then that we found out he was straight - which explains his strange taste in dance moves. We felt a conned (we could have picked up a real shag), but also thought it was quite cool that we'd half picked-up a straight guy. His name was Ruan - which provided an endless source of jokes for the rest of the trip. Ruan for me, two for you. Favourite Country? Tai-ruan. Oh, we were very funny!

A cock in a frock on the beach
One more drive later and we were at the final destination: we got to Cullera. It has a fab beach, and emmm, a fab beach. There is literally nothing worthwhile there other than the beach. We had a fab dragged-up trip to the beach, where we stopped a volley ball match in much the same way we'd stopped the other match. This group was less enthusiastic, but we had great fun nevertheless. We walked on the beach, took pictures, walked around the town, and then just went home to get changed out of drag. And that was it really - there was nothing else to do. We only spend a few days there because Andy didn't like just lying on a beach not doing anything - I would have happily stayed there for longer, but since he didn't fancy it, we left and head back towards London.

Our drive back was much quicker - although I have to admit we didn't drive all that safely the whole time. We regularly drove faster than 120 mile an hour, which was just reckless. I'm glad we didn't have any accidents, because at that speed we would have killed.... I had such a fab tan by the end of the trip. I tan easily anyway (I've only been sun burnt once, and that was when I fell asleep under a full sun for 4 hours on Okinawa, a Japanese island that is as far south as the middle of the Sahara Desert) but I also had lots of fake tan. I was ready to hit the London scene again.