I was in East London recently – exploring all things feminist - including to visit the Vagina Museum in its newest space (more on that next time). While gentrification has crawled all over the capital, East London - a place with a rich history of resilience and resistance - has managed to retain some pockets of grittiness, diverse and alternative cultures.
As it’s February, we’re celebrating and sharing our love with the LGBTQIA+ community. Solidarity is taking on new meanings every day. Our rights are being chipped away, slowly eroding, like land washed away by the sea, until a huge surge overcomes us - and this is precisely where we are today, in the middle of that ugly surge. Look across the pond or as far as the Siberian plains, importantly look right where you stand. The rights we hold dear, and often take for granted, are being ripped apart - and humanity is being lost in the process.
Since his inauguration, Trump has been moving fast. He signed a long list of abhorrent orders including one recognising ‘only two sexes - male and female’ – and declaring that ‘these sexes are not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality’. The plight of migrants, people of colours and women is going down the same filthy drain. I could write a (series of) blog about that alone … but that is not what London Feminista is about. And while we mustn’t lose touch with our ghastly reality, together we create spaces of hope and radical joy.
No darkness lasts forever.
And even there, there are stars.
Ursula Le Guin
Books Books Books
East London has more than its fair share of amazing bookshops - like the queer, intersectional The Common Press. In the same vein as the gorgeous Scarlett Letters, which I hope you have by now had a chance to visit, The Common Press is more than just a bookshop – it’s a safe, warm, welcoming community space, where you can buy books, sit down, read, have a coffee and meet like minded people - and breathe. They’re just on the corner with Brick Lane - another good reason to visit - and also host evening events.
In the age of corporate take overs killing small businesses and restricting our choices, independent bookshops have never been more important. They are like cultural and intellectual oases. Inevitably, they struggle to survive, and places like The Common Press could definitely use a little extra help. And in case you need convincing, I'll share another piece of wisdom by Ursula Le Guin: "We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art - the art of words." Buy more books.
The bookshop venue, known as the Glass House Projects, also hosts a multimedia event space known as the Commons and the Common Counter bar - all underpinned by their commitment to intersectionality and inclusivity. Ironically, its past occupants were the uber-conservative Society for the Reformation of Manners – aka the ‘fun police’. Formed in Tower Hamlets in 1691, the society was led by prominent politicians and religious leaders motivated by an exaggerated sense of morality - and money. They used informers and prosecutions to suppress a range of ‘offences’, such as swearing, drunkenness, "lewd and disorderly" conduct, brothel keeping, gaming and sodomy - filling their pockets with handsome sums.
The Birth of Drag
They were particularly keen to bust so called ‘Molly Houses’* - secret clubs where gay, bisexual and transgender men met to socialise, have sex, and more generally explore fetishism and transvestism. One such ‘Molly House’ was the residence of a certain Jonathan Muff - aka ‘Miss Muff’ - located near 45 Whitechapel Road. On 5th October 1728, ‘nine male ladies’ were arrested and, after some resistance, charged on ‘Oath with committing the detestable Sin of Sodomy’.
There is a long tradition of drag, likely began in Elizabethan theatre when men took on female roles, and continues today in many forms of popular entertainment - think pantomime. In fact, the ‘drag’ phenomenon as we know it today, may even have originated in the East End, where all-male concert party troupes routinely performed during WWI. Decades later, in the 1950’s and 60’s, many East London pubs staged drag acts. Take ‘Diamond Lil’, one of most famous acts, they performed mostly in the Royal Oak, on Columbia Road - and no-one batted an eyelid. Now, you get a trans performer doing a reading in a pub and the far-right rock up outside in a violent display of moral outrage.
In the 1970’s queer organising shifted up a few gears. The Sexual Offences Act, 1967 ended the criminalisation of ‘homosexual sex between men’. Noting that the law was only extended in Scotland in 1980, and 1982 in Northern Ireland. Furthermore, Britain’s colonial legacy still impacts LGBTQ+ politics and rights around the world. Back to 1970, however, the mood was jubilant, the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) was born, bringing together gay men, lesbians, queers in the same loud and proud movement. It didn’t last. Male dominance became a major stumbling block and led to division according to gender, class, political affiliation.
Seeing Red
Bethnal Rouge Collective was one of the groups to emerge. Made up by a bunch of ‘Radical Feminists’ - who were in fact drag queens as opposed to what we know as ‘rad fems’ today - who’d sided with lesbians in the GLF in opposition to the ‘straight’ gay men. The somewhat derogatory ‘radical femme acid queens’ label stuck, and they certainly lived up to their mischievous reputation. They weren’t shy about staging colourful protests or confrontational tactics, like in their Miss Trial street theatre outside the Old Bailey in support of the feminists on trial for disrupting the Miss World contest. They had lived in squats in Brixton and Notting Hill before moving to 248 Bethnal Green Road, where they took over the anarchist Agitprop Bookshop to set up the Bethnal Rouge Acid Drag Commune in 1973:
“Dear Brothers + Sisters,
Bethnal Rouge, a commune of gay people, have taken over the former Agitprop bookshop.
The shop will continue with the emphasis on gay’s, women’s + children’s books and periodicals.
We open up on March 1st, our hours are Mon-Sat 11am-7pm.
There’s plenty of room here for people to relax, chat and have coffee, so come on round.
Love Bethnal Rouge Collective
P.S. Tube: Bethnal Green (Central) Bus: No. 8″
Final stop: The Bethnal Green Working Mens Club
Working men’s clubs have a long history in the UK - the first one opened in Reddish in 1857. They are inextricably linked to working class tradition. At its peak, in the 1970s, there were over 4,000 clubs affiliated to the Working Men’s Club and Institute Union and over four million club members, '10 per cent of the UK’s adult population at that time’. With gentrification - and the smoking ban - many have been forced to close. Those that have survived, undergoing major transformation, are often hanging in there by the skin of their teeth - like the Bethnal Green Working Mens Club (BGWMC).
When it rose from the ashes 20+ years ago, BGWMC became a sensation. An iconic venue in itself, as you would have seen if you watched Baby Reindeer, it turned into an LGBTQ+ cultural Mecca - a safe space for queer nightlife, drag, cabaret and sex-worker led shows, some of the best in town. Then, suddenly, last year, they received a two month’s notice to shut down and vacate by 29th July.
The threat of losing the BGWMC sparked outrage in the community and led to a successful campaign to save it from closure, led by member of the drag and cabaret performers union, Equity and Friends of BGWMC. It reopened for performance last November with continued focus on putting pressure on Tower Hamlets Council. Keep your eyes peeled for future development via Save BGWMC.
*The term ‘Molly’ or ‘Moll’ was a slang term for lower class women, sex workers and gay men.
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