Manchester is bracing itself for a long weekend of sequins, silent discos, and straight men accidentally discovering joy, as the city prepares to host Manchester Pride 2025.
The annual celebration of LGBTQ+ rights, culture, and politely tolerated chaos will once again descend on the city like a glitter-splattered hurricane with feelings. From August 22 to 25, expect soaring anthems, defiant drag queens, and at least one confused hen party wandering into a cabaret performance and emerging as lifelong allies with a new appreciation for Cher.
This year’s festivities will feature the usual four-day Gay Village Party, which remains the only time of year you’ll willingly pay £9 for a lukewarm can of Red Stripe. Revellers can enjoy a smorgasbord of entertainment ranging from Moonchild Sanelly on Friday, to B*Witched on Saturday, and the eternal mystery of “how is Diana Vickers still performing?” on Sunday.
Saturday’s main event is, of course, the Pride Parade, Manchester’s most glittering traffic jam, which will clog the city’s arteries from Liverpool Road to Fairfield Street. Theme: “Love”, which is notably more coherent than last year’s baffling “Radical Unicorns for Fiscal Responsibility”.
New for 2025 is Mardi Gras at Depot Mayfield, a high-glam affair that promises drag royalty, iconic DJs, and enough euphoria to make even Jacob Rees-Mogg question his choices. Organisers say it will be “high-energy, high-glam, high-queer”, which coincidentally is also how most attendees describe their ex.
Elsewhere, the Superbia Festival will showcase Manchester’s local LGBTQ+ talent, which this year includes workshops, panel discussions, and probably someone named Kyle who insists his ukulele cover of Madonna’s Like a Prayer is “a political statement”.
Meanwhile, Community Lane will serve as a pop-up marketplace where visitors can buy hand-poured soy candles, handmade pronoun badges, and the creeping realisation that local queer artisans have better branding than most FTSE 100 companies.
The weekend wraps up with a candlelit vigil on Monday night, curated by Nathaniel J Hall and Kate O’Donnell, which will honour those lost to HIV and remind everyone that beneath the sparkle, there’s a sobering and ongoing struggle, one that can’t be fixed by glitter alone, but it doesn’t hurt.
As ever, Manchester Pride remains a complex cocktail of protest, party, and overpriced prosecco, a glitter-drenched, bass-thumping reminder that queer joy is defiance, and also that Samantha Mumba is still, somehow, a thing.
