Dancing the Gay Gordons at Fife Pride's GAYlidh

On the precipice of reading week, we traded a peaceful evening in for a night of dancing, drag, and fun. Run in collaboration with Fife Pride and Saints LGBT+, the two of us rocked up to Younger Hall for a Gaylidh – gay ceilidh, that is. We were promised a night of “joyful dancing, glorious gender play, and total freedom” and it was delivered in full force.  

Before the Gaylidh, we found ourselves discussing our respective engagements with queer culture back home. We both come from London — well, in Canada and England, respectively. London, England, is in many ways a queer paradise. The life of a queer teenager involved weekly trips to Heaven and volunteering at London Pride. However, what the UK’s capital offers in terms of scale, it lacks in community. While there’s intermingling and smiles exchanged in the megaclubs, there’s no real gay network. While London, Ontario, has a vibrant queer community, it is quite divided between students and long-time residents. With one sketchy gay bar and a ‘gay fraternity,’ the Canadian London could use an intergenerational queer dance party like the Gaylidh. 

Greeted with a glass of bubbly and a warm welcome, we proceeded into a scarily well-lit hall where the festivities were in full force. Despite the depleted numbers, probably since Reading Week had just begun, this didn’t dampen the spirits of those giving it their all. We saw a mix of students and community members, and it was a welcome opportunity to connect outside the bubble through both conversation and group dances. 

Both of us were at a loss in terms of what to expect — how does one prepare for a Gaylidh? In true queer fashion, we showed our stripes by twinning in Mary Jane Doc Martens.

However, we learned there was no one way to dress. From jeans to an elaborate bubblegum-pink ballgown, to kilts with rainbow suspenders, each attendee demonstrated that this was an environment where you could show up as your most authentic self. 

As stated in the event description, this was an evening dedicated to “community, connection, and creating joyful queer spaces” where “everyone feels safe, celebrated, and free to be themselves.” This was a welcome refuge from the all-too-familiar feeling of being scrutinised on a night out on the town in St Andrews, and instead, free to get down and dance with middle-aged lesbians of broader Fife. (PS: butch with salt-and-pepper hair and little hoop earrings, you’re our hero).

According to Alistair, the convener of Fife Pride, the Gaylidh was an inaugural event. Most attendees whom we chatted to had never been to a ceilidh before, let alone a Gaylidh. More seasoned dancers expressed their excitement that this was not a “traditional ‘men on this side, ladies on that side’ ceilidh;” instead, they were free to dance with whom they pleased. One of the highlights of the Gaylidh was the group dances, where we found ourselves breaking out into multigenerational queer bubbles. Because the majority of attendees had LGBT roots, there was an unspoken chemistry that made the dances feel as though between old friends.

The Gaylidh offered much more than the title suggested, including a performance from the self-proclaimed ‘queen of the Kingdom of Fife.’ Pride headliner and drag queen Ivy. Watching her strut across the stage of Younger Hall and perform death drops in what’s usually a lecture hall was a spectacle to behold. Flirting with audience members and performing tunes from ‘For the Gaze’ from the Death Becomes Her soundtrack to ‘Abracadabra’ by Lady Gaga, she fostered camaraderie amongst us, which made the second half of the ceilidh feel very relaxed.

Near the end of the night, we were encouraged to raise a glass to Pat Greenhough, who sadly passed away in January 2023. As the first convenor of Fife Pride and an Operational Officer with the Fife Centre for Equalities, her impact on LGBT representation within Fife clearly laid the ground for events such as the Gaylidh. Although attendees in our generation were previously unaware of Pat, we were grateful for her dedication. 

We were reminded of a quite bitter acquaintance who lamented that all queer University events were just “lesbians having picnics.” Admittedly, we did see some of the quote-unquote lesbian picnic types out on the dance floor. However, if you hold a similar prejudice (even though lesbian picnics sound like a blast), know that it was completely unfounded at the Gaylidh. There were a multitude of attendees in terms of age, background, and identity. The LGBT+ community in St Andrews and greater Fife exists in many different factions, and this was a fun opportunity for them to all intermingle. The last dance, Auld Lang Syne, exemplified this, with all of us joined in a huge circle and chanting together. It was a triumphant marriage of Scottish and queer identity. 

St Andrews gays – we see you shelling out £75 for samey fashion shows or overpriced balls — read: whatever fashionable and glamorous high-scale event graces the town. Instead, spend the £20 to support your broader community and experience a night of low-stress fun. Many complain that there aren’t enough queer events in St Andrews, but the only solution to that is to show up to the ones that do exist. Both of us will have departed St Andrews by the time this event rolls around again next year, but hopefully, next time, with the lights more dimmed and not right before Reading Week, the dancing will continue for years to come. 

Photo: Fiona McAllister