There’s a moment at gay parties when the shirts start coming off. Not just in nightclubs, everywhere. At pre-drinks. At the afters. At a BBQ that was absolutely not advertised as “shirts optional” but somehow becomes that anyway. One minute everyone’s dressed. The next, someone has decided it’s time. And once one shirt comes off, […]
There’s been a cultural shift lately.A quiet but noticeable one. The rise of the himbo.And, alongside him… the gooner. Two archetypes that, on paper, sound like they shouldn’t work.One is wholesome, charming, emotionally available but maybe not overthinking things.The other is… blissfully checked out and enjoying himself a little too much. And yet, somehow, they’ve […]
June last year I wrote a post called Pride & Legacy, a quiet tribute to the weight of the rights we carry, and the joy we now get to live out loud. I’d been reflecting on what we inherit, and what we leave behind. This feels like the next chapter of that. Because as Mardi […]
Being sober-curious as a gay man feels… rebellious. Not in a storm the gates kind of way, more in a quietly ordering something non-alcoholic and watching the room subtly recalibrate kind of way. I’m talking about alcohol, specifically how my relationship with drinking has shifted lately. And honestly? It’s been feeling better. The Bit No […]
Let’s talk about the curse of the vers. Not the “best of both worlds” that Hannah Montana once sang about, but the tragic reality of being a versatile man in a city experiencing a severe top shortage. Sydney is overflowing with bottoms. We’re talking surplus. Overstock. Bottoms on sale, two-for-one, next-day delivery. And me? I’m […]
(And Why It’s Not Entirely Wrong) If you’ve spent more than 10 minutes in Sydney’s gay scene or, honestly, 10 minutes on Scruff Global, you’ve probably heard it all: “Sydney gays are flaky.” “Sydney gays are cliquey.” “Sydney gays are intimidating.” “Sydney gays are obsessed with aesthetics.” “Sydney gays don’t date, they network.” And here’s […]
It’s almost time! When shirtless becomes a costume, body paint becomes a personality trait, and Horrorween Festival becomes the gay Met Gala of the undead. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Halloween. It’s camp. It’s chaotic. It’s a hall pass to wear something completely ridiculous and pretend it’s “conceptual.” But the gay costume roster? […]
When the uproar about the Pink Pony Club on Oxford Street hit my feed, I didn’t think much of it at first. Another Sydney nightlife headline, I figured. But then I started scrolling through the comments. Older gays defending the idea of men-only spaces, younger queer people calling out exclusion, and everyone in between chiming […]
At my company, we have something called an STI: Short Term Incentive. It’s a once-a-year bonus, basically the corporate version of Santa Claus. If you’ve worked hard, hit targets, and the stars align, you get rewarded. But recently, I had another STI moment. Not the spreadsheet kind. The sexual health clinic kind. Results Day: A […]
Ah yes, the sacred Sydney gay ritual:“I’m laying low for a bit.”“No more big nights for me.”“I’m focusing on my health.” And then, like clockwork, the messages starting flying:“So… what’s the plan for the long weekend?” Suddenly, we’re booked. Outfits are being couriered. Someone’s dusting off the mesh tank and pretending they’ve always liked circuit […]
Mitchachell 