EDITOR’S LETTER
This summer marks 50 years since the first official Pride march in London. What a journey those decades have been. As a gay man who has lived in the UK for much of this period in history, in many respects I feel enormously lucky: lucky to have seen the gathering of more rights; lucky to have witnessed the increased normalisation of personal identities, of desires, of lives. Earlier this year, I felt especially lucky, on my own 50th birthday, to have married my husband, Alec, surrounded by family and friends. Love, it turns out, can win. For my part, it wasn’t until a couple of decades after that first formal event in 1972 that I went to my first Pride – in Kennington Park in the early ’90s – and caught…