Pride After-Parties in London: Where Girls Should Celebrate 17 Dec,2025

London Pride doesn’t end when the parade stops. For many girls-lesbian, queer, non-binary, and trans women-the real celebration begins when the floats roll away and the streets clear. The after-parties are where the energy turns personal, where friendships deepen, where you find your people in a room full of glitter and laughter. These aren’t just parties. They’re safe havens, reclaiming spaces that once felt hostile, turning nightclubs into temples of belonging.

Why After-Parties Matter More Than the Parade

The parade is loud, public, and full of corporate sponsors. The after-parties? They’re raw, real, and made by the community. You won’t find branded merchandise here. Instead, you’ll find someone handing you a free shot because you looked tired. You’ll find a dance floor where no one asks you to explain your identity. You’ll find women who’ve been through the same battles, the same coming-outs, the same rejections, and they’re dancing like nobody’s watching-even though everyone is.

According to a 2024 survey by the London LGBTQ+ Community Centre, over 68% of queer women said they felt more connected to their identity after attending an after-party than during any official Pride event. That’s not just a statistic. That’s the sound of someone finally breathing easy.

Where to Go: Top 5 After-Parties for Girls in London

Not all after-parties are created equal. Some are packed with tourists. Others are too loud to talk. A few are just straight men in drag pretending to be allies. Here are the five spots where girls actually go to unwind, connect, and celebrate-no filters, no performative allyship.

  • The Joiners Arms (Hackney) - This tiny, unassuming pub turns into a queer women’s paradise every Pride weekend. No cover charge, no VIP section. Just a back room with a DJ spinning 90s R&B, a fridge full of cider, and a wall covered in handwritten notes from past attendees: “Found my girlfriend here,” “Cried on this couch after my mom disowned me,” “Still here, still proud.”
  • Club Kali (Soho) - Run by trans women and lesbian DJs, this is the only after-party in London with a strict no-male-gaze policy after midnight. No staring. No taking photos. Just dancing, talking, and the occasional group hug. The sound system is so good you can feel the bass in your ribs. The drinks? Cheap. The vibe? Unmatched.
  • She Bar (Camden) - Open since 2017, She Bar is the longest-running lesbian-focused after-party in the city. They host a “Queer Karaoke Night” every Pride Sunday where anyone can sing, no matter how off-key. Last year, a 70-year-old woman sang “I Will Survive” and the whole room cried. It’s not a performance. It’s a ritual.
  • The Eagle (Clerkenwell) - Don’t let the leather-and-denim exterior fool you. This spot is a haven for butch girls, femmes, and everyone in between. They serve $5 gin and tonics, have a wall of free queer zines, and host a “Love Letters to Our Younger Selves” reading every night. It’s quiet. It’s safe. It’s healing.
  • Wicked Women at The Glory (Shoreditch) - This is the party that started it all. Every Pride, they turn the entire venue into a glitter bomb of queer women. The DJ is always a woman of color. The bartenders know your name by 10 PM. And the dance floor? It’s the only place in London where you can go from slow dancing with your best friend to grinding to a remix of “WAP” without anyone batting an eye.

What to Wear: No Rules, Just You

You don’t need sequins. You don’t need a tiara. You don’t even need to dress up. Some girls show up in their hoodie and combat boots. Others wear full-body glitter and thigh-high boots. Both are equally valid. The only rule? Wear what makes you feel like you.

One woman told me she wore her late mother’s wedding veil to the She Bar party last year. “I didn’t think she’d ever be proud of me,” she said. “But there, in that room, surrounded by women who understood loss and love, I felt her with me.” That’s the power of these spaces. They don’t ask you to be perfect. They just ask you to be present.

A dimly lit dance floor where women and non-binary people move freely under colored lights, no cameras, only connection and bass.

How to Stay Safe (Without Ruining the Fun)

Safe doesn’t mean boring. It means knowing where the exits are. It means having a friend you can text if you feel overwhelmed. It means trusting your gut-if a guy in a rainbow shirt keeps hovering, walk away. These parties are run by the community, for the community. There are volunteers in bright vests who know everyone’s name. They’re there to help, not to police.

Bring a small bag with: water, a charger, a spare pair of shoes (your heels will kill you by 2 AM), and a photo of someone you love. Some people keep a photo of their partner, their child, their dog. Others keep a photo of themselves as a teenager-just to remind themselves how far they’ve come.

What to Expect: No Performances, Just Presence

Don’t go expecting Instagram moments. Go expecting real connection. You might spend two hours talking to a stranger about how her dad still doesn’t say her name right. You might get pulled into a spontaneous circle dance. You might cry in the bathroom stall and someone will knock gently and say, “I’ve been there too.”

There’s no pressure to hook up. No pressure to be loud. No pressure to be anything other than exactly who you are. That’s rare. And it’s worth showing up for.

An elderly woman singing passionately at a karaoke mic as the room watches in emotional silence, surrounded by queer community.

Why This Isn’t Just About Parties

These after-parties are political. They’re acts of resistance. In a world where queer women are still underrepresented in media, overpoliced in public spaces, and ignored in mainstream Pride marketing, these nights are how we say: We are here. We’re not a trend. We’re not a hashtag. We’re not a corporate sponsorship. We’re the ones who showed up, danced, cried, held hands, and kept each other alive.

London Pride started as a protest. These after-parties are its heartbeat.

Final Tip: Bring a Friend-Or Come Alone

You don’t need a squad. You don’t need a date. You don’t need to know anyone. Walk in. Grab a drink. Find a corner. Watch. Listen. Someone will smile at you. Someone will ask your name. And for the first time in a long time, you won’t have to explain why you’re smiling back.

Are these after-parties only for lesbians?

No. These spaces are for all women and non-binary people who feel most at home in queer women’s spaces. Trans women, genderqueer folks, and cis women who identify with the community are all welcome. The focus is on creating safety for those who’ve been excluded from mainstream LGBTQ+ events, not on excluding others.

Do I need to buy tickets in advance?

Some do, most don’t. The Joiners Arms and The Eagle are usually free entry. Club Kali and Wicked Women at The Glory often have RSVPs on Eventbrite-check their Instagram pages the week before Pride. Don’t wait until the day of. These parties fill up fast, especially if it’s raining.

Is it safe to take public transport after?

Yes, but be smart. Night buses run until 4 AM, and many girls organize ride shares through group chats. If you’re alone, wait until you see another group heading the same way. Don’t hesitate to ask a volunteer for help-they’re trained to escort people to safe transport. Most parties end with a group walk to the nearest tube station.

What if I don’t know anyone there?

That’s the point. Everyone’s there because they’re looking for connection. Walk up to someone who looks like they’re standing alone. Say, “This song is my anthem.” Or “I’ve never been here before-how long have you been coming?” You’ll get a smile, a hug, or a drink. That’s how most friendships start.

Are these parties only during Pride Month?

No. While the biggest gatherings happen in June, most of these venues host monthly queer women’s nights. She Bar has “Sapphic Sundays” every month. The Glory has “Wicked Women” every third Friday. These aren’t one-off events-they’re ongoing communities.

London’s Pride after-parties aren’t just about dancing. They’re about remembering who you are when the world tries to erase you. They’re about finding your people in the dark, in the noise, in the glitter-and knowing, without a doubt, that you belong.