Welcome to Washington, D(yke). C(ity).
You’ll never be bored in Dyke City.
You’ll never be bored in Dyke City.
As night fell, the Athenian lesbians came out to play.
From taverns to rotating clubs, there’s a little something for everyone at night in the British city.
Inside London’s first-ever lesbian arts festival.
Queer Speed Cruising is a breeding ground of dyke love and queer friendship.
The dykez building a queer utopia, one beat at a time.
I flew away from that island, a beaming smile on my face, Sapphic magic surging through my spine.
According to the dyke nightlife diary: “Some of the best tops in London are in this building.”
Founded and run by women, for women.
Dyke in the Pit is lit.
It wasn’t the fantasy that I expected and I blame myself.
I’d either entered heaven or hell, the end of the world or the start of a new one.
Picture a bunch of lesbian James Deans.
Easily some of the most dedicated, impressive twerking I’ve ever seen.
It was raw, hedonistic, Sapphic magic.
You don’t go to Lick the Club to sit in the corner looking svelte. You go to dance until your thighs ache.
Lesbians are miracles.
Even if no one’s your type, the interior is beautiful!
NYC dykes are the hottest in the world.
Several dapper dykes were sprinkled across the top decks, chatting and sipping their drinks. I was home.
I gave a little salute to our loud, proud and defiantly queer ancestors. It was their revolution, on these very streets half a century ago that made all this possible.
It was hedonism. It was freedom and community.
All the SF power dykes were there.
Effortlessly cool spaces, art and photography on the walls, low-lit, neon lights, a team of (very hot) bartenders…need we say more?