Staff writer Polly Symes reflects on whether Heaven, London’s most famous queer club, really is a safe environment for London’s young women.
In early May, I went to the nightclub Heaven for the first time. It was a Thursday, meaning it was ‘GAY PORN IDOL’ night, otherwise known as Heaven’s weekly amateur strip show. Honestly, I felt the safest I’ve ever felt on a night out.
The club Heaven has a rich history. It originally opened in 1979, just twelve years after the decriminalisation of homosexuality in the UK. It was one of the first non-pub venues of its scale catering specifically to the gay male community that did not require a membership. When it opened, Heaven’s distinctive disco/electronic music attracted gay men in their swathes: an icon in the clubbing world was born. The 1980s and 90s brought a diversification of both Heaven’s music and its clientele. This included female and heterosexual crowds who sought something ‘different’. This was not an uncontroversial change. Indeed, the debate around whether queer spaces should be reserved soley for queer people is still ongoing. Despite this, the club has continued to grow in popularity. Famous figures such as Cher, Adele, Rita Ora and Charli XCX have performed at the venue.
Recently, in November of 2024, Heaven temporarily closed after a nineteen-year-old accused a security guard of raping her outside the club. The guard has since been cleared of rape and attempted rape. Nevertheless, many have expressed concern about the scar that the allegation could leave on the club. The club has since enforced a 3am last entry time, a ban on drinking in the queue, and a complete overhaul of security staff.
It is a tragic reality that most women have negative stories to tell about clubbing, which often revolve around men who refuse to take ‘no’ for an answer. Even more prevalent is the unspoken expectation that women appeal to the ‘male gaze’; acting ‘sexy’ or alluring for men. Whilst the term ‘male gaze’ was coined by Laura Mulvey (a film theorist) four decades ago to describe the limited ways women were portrayed in cinema, it has become a buzzword in corners of the internet. It refers to certain ways in which women behave, move, and express themselves in male-dominated spaces.
So why then, despite this struggle, do women continue to brave clubs at all? For many, it is not just the dancing itself that appeals, but the whole process; the giddy pre-drinks in a shred kitchen, the tipsy tube ride, the singing of ABBA’s Dancing Queen as loudly as lungs will allow. And, more importantly, if women stopped going out each time a sexual assault was committed, we would not go out at all. Before November 2024, Heaven was a popular choice for a night-out amongst London’s female students, because of its status as a queer club. Many young women feel free from the ‘male gaze’, heteronormative dynamic, whilst in this queer space.
My own first time at Heaven was certainly unconventional by ‘normal’ clubbing standards. When my friends and I made it inside, a show host greeted us with an announcement that tonight was ‘GAY PORN IDOL’ night, or ‘strip night’. At Heaven, strip night is a weekly event that consists of nine audience members volunteering to strip naked in front of the club audience for a cash reward. Each contestant has two minutes to remove their clothing, all whilst keeping the audience entertained. Three drag queens judge this affair. Unsurprisingly, this is controversial. Metropolitan Police officers, for example, have been warned not to take part, in order to avoid uncomfortable interactions whilst later on shift.
In my own experience, never had the concept of witnessing nine total strangers strip seemed so wholesome. With each contestant, skilled or not, the audience cheered in appreciation, after which the judges lavished praise on each volunteer. The atmosphere was supportive and welcoming. For a moment, I thought, ‘maybe I should do this too’. After the stripping ended, my friends and I all took the opportunity to dance to our favourite pop anthems. During said dancing, no unwanted advances were made. We all had ample space to be our true selves. Everyone moved in the way that felt right for them, including someone in a wheelchair. The overall feeling? One of utter liberation.
Whilst I was aware of rape-allegation story before going to Heaven for the first time, I was beautifully surprised at how special the club still felt, for all the right reasons. ‘Porn Idol’ night provided a space to have fun, be free, and feel safe. It is vital that night-time venues continue in their endeavour to be as safe as possible for female clients. It is only in this way that women will be able to, as dreamed of during the feminist marches of the 1970s, ‘Take Back the Night’.
Second-year undergraduate at King’s College London studying Culture, Media and Creative Industries.
