I’m a proud, gay, married man. But World Pride looks like a drag

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a gay man in possession of a gym membership must be in want of tickets to a World Pride event.

When I’m asked by well-meaning straight friends whether I’m looking forward to the dance parties, bottomless brunches and theatrical explorations of queer identities on offer in Sydney from February 17, I feel the need to hand in my gay card (the one issued in 1995 with Ian Roberts on the front and Kylie Minogue on the back).

My World Pride calendar is empty, making me the gay Grinch of Darlinghurst.

I have been an out gay man for decades, worked briefly at a gay magazine in the 90s, endured a homophobic strip search at Melbourne’s Tasty nightclub raid in 1994 and walked from Sydney to Brisbane for marriage equality. Last year I got married, so the proud tag fits like a Speedo, but World Pride gives me severe FOGOAG (Fear Of Going Out And Glitter).

It’s like the impostor syndrome I had as a closeted teenager, singing along in pubs to Cold Chisel’s Khe Sanh while wearing suspiciously clean Blundstone boots and an ironed flannelette shirt.

There’s a thrilling World Pride program, with comedy events, poetry readings, First Nations activations and exhibitions but my ability to join the party is hampered by the slick and sequinned marketing from brands showing their support for the rainbow dollar.

Walking around Sydney or scrolling through social media in the lead-up to World Pride is like being trapped in a RuPaul’s Drag Race marathon, with countless images of drag queens promoting pride flights, hotel brunches and bingo, with back-up from a slew of oiled, topless men.

World Pride’s program has something for everyone but most of the imagery used to promote events is limited, making the celebration look like the type of hens’ parties where phallic straws are plunged into Aperol spritzes.