Let’s not exaggerate. St. Petersburg isn’t Provincetown or the Castro in San Francisco, but it is one of the gayest cities in the country, and it happens to be located in Florida. The city’s 2024 Pride celebration drew a crowd of more than 300,000 , making it the largest Pride parade in Florida. On Feb. 16, St. Petersburg launches its first-ever Winter Pride , a week of street parties, movies, and club nights. St. Petersburg will become the only city in Florida with two official Pride weeks. St. Petersburg also has more gay bars than most cities (including Boston), a gay hotel (more on this in a minute), and a thriving gayborhood, called the Grand Central District. It’s easy to forget you’re in Florida when walking along Central Ave. as you pass LGBTQ+-specific health centers, pharmacies, and gay clubs that spill out onto the sidewalk. It’s an anomaly in a state where legislators tried to pass 22 anti-gay bills in 2023 (21 of them either failed or were struck down in courts). To be clear, St. Petersburg’s draw as a destination extends beyond LGBTQ+ visitors, much the way that Provincetown’s appeal reaches far beyond queer tourists. It has charming stores, restaurants, beaches, and sports bars that you don’t need to be gay to enjoy. It’s a well-proportioned combination of city and beach town with an average of 361 days of sunshine each year. But one of the challenges facing businesses is persuading gay tourists to visit. Governor Ron DeSantis has signed several anti-gay and anti-trans bills into law. Under his administration, the state’s official tourism bureau removed a page from its website promoting the state to gay tourists. The state’s LGBTQ+ civil rights organization, Equity Florida, even issued a travel advisory warning gay travelers “that Florida may not be a safe place to visit or take up residence.” Given this, it’s understandable that tourists with differing political ideologies have opted to spend their vacation dollars in more welcoming states. But that reasoning doesn’t sit well with those who live here and make a living from tourism. “I think it’s horribly sad for our community to take that approach,” said David Fischer, owner of Cocktail, one of the city’s most popular gay bars, plus several other businesses in St. Petersburg. “I say that because if the people who were a part of the Stonewall riots didn’t fight back and said, ‘I’m leaving, and I’m not going to stay here,’ We would never have the rights we have today.” Rene Cantu became president of the Tampa Bay LGBT Chamber in 2024. Before that, he was with Equity Florida when the organization issued its travel advisory. He doesn’t recommend that LGBTQ+ tourists venture into some of the small, rural towns surrounding St. Pete, but he encourages travelers to spend their vacation dollars in St. Petersburg. “I get that people would avoid the state of Florida,” he said. “But think about the people who are here and who are part of the LGBGT community. Come and be part of our fight. Come and be a part of showing those naysayers that we’re a viable community.” Allow me to set down my reporter’s notebook for a moment and give you some first-hand impressions. When I went to St. Petersburg last month to report on its gay scene, my expectations weren’t terribly high. I thought there would be a fun bar, a good drag show, and some decent restaurants. Instead, I entered a queertopia with a level of diversity I didn’t expect. I went to see a lesbian band perform at a sports bar while some rowdy, fun dykes (they would encourage me to use the word) danced, whooped it up, and offered to share their buffalo wings with me. I attended a fundraiser where I saw my first-ever femme drag king perform. I stayed at a gay hotel called Mari Jean Hotel . It was so gay that I can’t describe the decor in a family newspaper. Some design elements had me clutching my pearls, and I thought I had seen everything. Once I was done being a prudish Brahman, the lascivious design left me giggling. Unlike the gay scene in Ft. Lauderdale, which is hyper-focused on men, St. Petersburg is more inclusive of women and trans residents. It’s laid-back, which may be due to its proximity to the beach or perhaps because of its strong artistic community. I empathized with the business owners who were hoping to see more tourists. But I also wouldn’t fault travelers who decide that Florida isn’t their cup of Long Island Iced Tea. I’m here to tell you that I never felt unsafe in St. Petersburg, and clearly, those same-sex couples walking down the street holding hands didn’t feel unsafe either. I was most surprised to learn that some LGBTQ+ folks are choosing to settle in St. Pete from out of state. Tony Loeffler, who co-owns Atlas Body + Home with his husband, Michael Griffin, said the couple came to St. Petersburg from Portland, Ore., eight years ago. “We’re not going to lie,” he said. “Our friends moved here first from Portland‚ and we gave them endless months of grief. ‘You’re moving to Florida on purpose?’ We assumed St. Pete was hateful and not very gay-friendly. And we came to visit and were blown away. This was probably nine years ago, and it’s only become more welcoming since then.” Their menswear shop on busy Central Avenue, which sells a mix of bathing suits, dress-casual clothes, and scents and candles, is thriving. They say they have no regrets about the move or plans to return to Oregon. “It’s exciting for a city of our size to see gay bars and businesses regularly opening versus closing,” he said. “I think it’s a good sign, and it’s just a remarkable thing that little old St. Pete is seeing that growth. It’s a testament to how strong the community is here. We can survive, even in a state like Florida.”
CONTINUE READING
