Pride Was a Protest — So Why Are We All Covered in Glitter?
Let’s talk about the sparkly, rainbow-colored elephant in the room: Pride started as a protest. A full-blown, brick-throwing, police-clashing, “we’re-not-going-to-take-this-anymore” riot. And now? Now Pride is a float sponsored by a fast-food chain handing out coupons for rainbow chicken nuggets. We’ve come a long way — but like, maybe also too far?
Don't get me wrong. I love glitter. I once found a rogue sequin in my underpants three weeks after Pride and called it “a reminder of joy.” But somewhere between Stonewall and Target’s “Love Is Love” beach towel collection, the radical roots of Pride got… well, repackaged. In plastic. With a limited-time coupon code.
The Riot That Launched a Movement
June 28, 1969. The Stonewall Inn, New York City. Cops raided a gay bar (because that was a normal Tuesday in the '60s), and for once, the queer community pushed back. Marsha P. Johnson reportedly threw the first brick — or maybe a shot glass — depending on who you ask. What matters is that it was fierce, necessary, and the beginning of the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement.
There were no floats. No DJs. No brand partnerships. Just angry, exhausted queer folks saying, “Enough.” Pride was born from resistance — not merch.
From Rebellion to Parade
Fast forward a couple of decades and boom — the first official Pride parades began. They were still acts of defiance. Marches were often surrounded by counter-protesters with signs that smelled like hate and dry erase markers. Pride was political theater. It was protest with pom-poms.
But then something wild happened: corporations saw us. And not in the “we see your humanity” way — more like, “we see your purchasing power.” Enter: rainbow capitalism. ??
What the Hell Is Rainbow Capitalism?
Rainbow Capitalism (noun) — The practice of slapping a rainbow on a product, campaign, or logo to appear inclusive and rake in queer dollars… without actually doing anything meaningful for the LGBTQ+ community.
In June, brands bloom like daisies — suddenly everyone is gay-friendly! Toothpaste, banks, vodka, even pet food. Is it nice to be “seen?” Sure. But it’s also a little weird when a mattress company has a float but still doesn’t offer healthcare coverage for trans employees.
The irony? We used to fight for visibility. Now we’re visible as a demographic on a Q2 marketing report. We went from radical to relatable. From “Here, we’re queer, get used to it” to “Here, we’re queer, and we love your new limited-edition rainbow sports bra.”
Glitter as War Paint
Still, I maintain: glitter is political. It gets under your skin, in your laundry, and into places you didn’t know existed. It’s the herpes of craft supplies — and also the joyful defiance of queer bodies in public spaces. When the world tells you to be quiet, glitter says, “Cool, but what if I was also loud and sparkly?”
We use it to honor drag queens, queer joy, and the audacity to celebrate our existence. So yes — we’ve traded protest signs for bedazzled jockstraps. But maybe that’s a kind of protest too?
Can Pride Be Both?
Let’s not pit joy and justice against each other. Pride can be a party and a protest. We can dance in the streets and march for our rights. We can buy the rainbow Oreos and ask what that brand is doing the other 11 months of the year.
Here’s the deal: visibility is only good if it comes with action. If your Pride campaign doesn’t include supporting queer nonprofits, lobbying for equality legislation, or creating inclusive workplaces, you’re not celebrating us — you’re cashing in on us.
The Forgotten Letters
Pride is often dominated by the “L” and the “G,” with a generous sprinkling of “B” if someone attractive is around. But let’s not forget the full alphabet soup. Trans folks, nonbinary folks, asexuals, aromantics — they’re not side dishes on the queer buffet. They are the main course. And yet, they're often left out of the big, glossy brand campaigns.
Inclusivity means showing up for the whole community — not just the parts that photograph well for social media.
So… Now What?
- Support queer-owned businesses — Not just in June. Year-round. Buy your glitter from someone who actually uses glitter.
- Donate to grassroots orgs — Especially trans-led, BIPOC-focused groups doing real work without the corporate checks.
- Ask questions — What are these brands doing outside of Pride? Are they lobbying for queer rights or just changing their logo?
- Celebrate joy — Because joy is resistance. Laugh. Dance. Love out loud. That’s as radical as it gets.
The Agenda Is Evolving
Pride will always be political, whether you're holding a protest sign or a party popper. Whether you're marching, voguing, or quietly existing in your truth in a place that doesn’t want to see it. We can’t forget our history — but we also can’t stop celebrating the fact that we’re still here.
The Gay Agenda isn’t taking over the world. But if it was, honestly? It’d probably be better. It’d come with universal healthcare, gender-neutral bathrooms, and dancing in the streets. Also: snacks.
So this June, put on your glitter. But also put your money, your time, and your voice where it matters. Because Pride started as a riot — and now, it’s a revolution in rhinestones.
TL;DR: Pride isn’t just about being seen. It’s about being safe, being heard, and being celebrated — on our own terms. Preferably while covered in sequins.