Sink The Pink are going out on a high – as queens of the UK’s queer scene

One New Year’s Eve in the late 00s, Glyn Fussell and Amy Zing (“a baby gay and girl best mates always trying to make the other laugh,” recalls Amy) staged a Studio 54-themed bash at their house. Except nobody came. “We got there — well, I say we got there; we walked into the living room from our rooms…” laughs Glyn. 

Adds Amy with a giggle: “We were like, ‘What time is everyone coming?!’ We forgot to invite anyone!” 

Despite the lack of guests, the party exuded all the confetti-cannon camp that would later mark the pair’s mammoth club-night-turned-cultural-movement, Sink The Pink. Think crazy costumes, pure pop playlists, and a smorgasbord of unforgettable performances. Or in this case, “Glyn in the corner on a chair putting on a show,” remembers Amy. “I still had the best night of my life!”

The pair met in Bristol, through Amy’s cousin Jacob. “I’d visit and think: ‘There’s another crazy one like me!’” she recalls. “They were the only alternative gays in the village. They were the ones who were going to escape — and did.” 

Having decided to move to London, Jacob and Glyn took Amy along for the ride “with £5 in our back pockets — that classic Madonna tale!” reminisces Glyn. 

With the exception of Boombox and, later, Jonny Woo, the capital’s clubbing scene back then was “closed, uninviting, serious”, says Glyn. “Amy and I were these cartoon characters who stood out. But no one really wanted us at their party.”

“It felt quite bitchy — not just the gay scene, but the clubbing scene at that time,” observes Amy. “We were bumming around, having to go to Soho so Glyn could snog a boy; awkward straight places so I could snog a boy… We were working in jobs we didn’t love and would go to these places that cost a lot of money, and people weren’t very nice to us. We were like, ‘Why doesn’t somewhere exist where we can just be? Like a kids’ party, that’s silly and fun, where you can be ridiculous.’” 

“So, we created something for ourselves,” adds Glyn. 

“For all the other misfits!” continues Amy. “We had to make it happen. It was in our veins.”

This may all sound very ‘Born This Way’-era Lady Gaga, but Sink The Pink started before that tune was even released: on 8 August 2008 (or 08/08/08). Its central tenets of love and inclusivity — and of being “serious about fun,” as Glyn puts it — were inspired by the pair’s relationship. “We found solace and safety in each other and our friendship,” he explains. Some 14 years later, they still enjoy a riotous rapport, as they catch up with Attitude on video call. Glyn, now 42, logs on from his London office, while Amy, 41, appears in the midst of her fancy dress-strewn bedroom in Margate.

Sink The Pink started modestly, they tell me, with their debut ball attended by just 27 people. But it was “like supply and demand” says Amy. They credit a profile in this very magazine with taking things to the next level. “A lot of people were dying of GHB overdoses in south London at the time,” she points out. “There was quite a lot of dark drug stuff happening on the gay scene. That first Attitude piece [wrote] about how silly and fun Sink The Pink was. ‘And nobody dies of a GHB overdose!’ It shows how desperate and bleak things were. We were handing out fake moustaches and cakes!”

“That was our first bit of press,” agrees Glyn. “It made us realise we could go bigger with this bonkers, surreal thing we wholeheartedly believed in.”

Soon enough, like a fabulous great ship navigating the choppy waters of London nightlife — with two colourfully dressed captains at the helm — Sink The Pink swept through the 10s in a blaze of glory, hitting the sweet spot between “mainstream culture, pop culture and queer culture,” explains Glyn. Young queers from across the country braved Megabuses to rub shoulders with achingly cool and fashionable east Londoners. A-list names couldn’t keep away. Performers and DJs like Little Mix and Jake Shears played, and attendees included Sam Smith and Róisín Murphy. “We also had some randoms, like [TV health guru] Gillian McKeith and Bryan Adams!” laughs Glyn.

Sink The Pink was soon selling out 5,000-capacity spaces like Brixton Academy. Glyn did consider a permanent venue, but that wouldn’t have been in keeping with the ethos. “We never did traditionally gay venues,” he points out. 

“It’s very difficult to do that in London, money-wise,” adds Amy on the topic of a dedicated venue. “Although I’d have loved to have taken on a working men’s club!” (She’s since moved to Kent to open the Margate Arts Club with her partner, the former set designer for Sink The Pink. “We do queer nights, and that’s part of the legacy of Sink The Pink.” She has also co-founded Margate Pride.)

“We reclaimed spaces we weren’t supposed to be in,” states Glyn. “It was about making safe spaces and allowing our community to come in.”

Despite the night’s initial popularity, it was no money-spinner, clarifies Amy. “We’d be running to the cashpoint to pay the doorman!” 

Both worked odd jobs to keep things going. “For the longest time we were doing this out of pure love and passion in the hope it would become our jobs,” says Glyn, who was frequently fired and calls himself otherwise “unemployable”. He is now the heart of music festival Mighty Hoopla, London’s answer to a gay Glastonbury, which he co-founded.

The club night, plus its collective of tireless and fiercely attired performers, slowly went global, with tour dates everywhere from Dublin and Stockholm to New York City’s Times Square. The height of Sink The Pink’s visibility, arguably, was a Pride gig with Spice Girl Melanie C in São Paulo. The sight of Sporty, profile soaring high after the Spice Girls’ 2019 reunion, on a float flanked by drag versions of Baby, Ginger, Posh and Scary (with Drag Race UK’s Asttina Mandella channelling the latter), was awe-inspiring. Four million were in attendance. “I’m still not over that,” says Glyn. Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s infamously homophobic president, had assumed power that January. “Everyone was coming out, not just for their rights, but for their lives. You could physically feel the energy,” he says.

The movement grew and grew, with cherries on top including video projects for Comic Relief, British Vogue and Jimmy Choo and, this year, a book penned by Glyn: Sink The Pink’s Manifesto for Misfits: Be Different, Be Free, Be You. 

So, after all the sacrifices and struggle, did Sink The Pink pay off financially in the end? “The bigger we grew, the bigger our internal community grew,” answers Glyn. “One thing I’m super proud of is, we’ve always paid people remarkably well. Probably at the detriment of paying ourselves, is the long and short. But I also think that’s why we held onto our reputation. What we’ve actually done is take our community into the mainstream, paid them, taught them their worth, and created a climate where queer people get paid very well.”

“We’re now elders of the scene, I suppose,” reflects Amy. “We have a lot of pride in giving other people that safe space to be silly and fun.”

In a statement announcing Sink The Pink’s hiatus in January this year, Glyn said: “No party can last forever. Sink The Pink has achieved more than we could ever have hoped for, so we feel it’s the right time to hang up our heels and make way for a new generation of queer London to shine through.” 

Pressing pause was a team decision. “It’s not the Amy and Glyn Show,” says Amy. 

Could Planet Pink turn again? I ask.

“Everyone loves a revival, especially gays,” teases Glyn. “Look at Cher! Never say never. But it’s time to breathe. If it’s supposed to come back, it will. [But] it’ll always exist.” 

Adds Glyn: “I felt it was time to make way for the next generation of queer trailblazers like Queer House Party and Little Gay Brother. All of them have taken the blueprint of Sink The Pink, and they’ll happily accept that. Also, we didn’t want it to fizzle out. We wanted to go out with a massive wallop, and it really fucking did that.”

Indeed, this writer attended the Farewell Ball with 80 performers at London’s cavernous, 6,000-capacity Printworks venue in April. Dancing to the party’s penultimate song — Kylie Minogue’s ‘On a Night Like This’ — was an unexpectedly moving moment and a 2022 highlight. Until the Attitude Awards, that is, for which the troupe and Melanie C reunited to paint the town pink one more time. 

Watch Sink the Pink’s acceptance speech from the 2022 Virgin Atlantic Attitude Awards below:

MINISTRY OF MISFITS

Famous members of the Sink The Pink family share their hottest, pinkest memories 

Jade Thirlwall

“I walked into Sink The Pink for the first time and was like, ‘What is this magical wonderland?’ I loved it and I’ve been back so many times since. One of my favourite Little Mix memories is performing at Sink The Pink during the Get Weird era; it was such an amazing night. Sink The Pink changed the face of LGBTQ+ events in London and has paved the way for so many more inclusive nights across the UK.”

Bimini

“When I started going to Sink The Pink, that’s when I was like, ‘These are my people that I love and want to be around.’ I always honour Sink The Pink as one of my biggest influences. They gave me a massive platform. It really cemented me as an artist in east London.”

Asttina Mandella

“Whenever I hit that stage with my family, the way the audience and fans reacted! That feeling will never die! You feel immortal up there. It changed our queer community. Sink The Pink walked so the other club nights could run. It felt like the original queer, expressionistic place, where you literally could be whoever you wanted to be. It impacted me in ways I can never say thank you enough for. It made me a drag artist! My career was built by the love and support from my Sink The Pink family. Correction, Sink The Pink is more than my family; it’s my home, heart and soul.”

Scissor Sisters’ Jake Shears

“I think active, home-spun, queer nightlife is absolutely integral, and it’s clear that Sink The Pink affected, influenced and inspired an entire generation of queer folk. It’s those kids who were there that are now making the music, parties, and art. You never know what’s going to change someone’s mind and, eventually, the course of history. My favourite memory of it was when I got to DJ in Bethnal Green. It just felt like a party in your parents’ basement. And I remember, in that moment, the energy was exactly what I needed. It was loose and free and down and dirty. I was with my friends and when we left, my pal accidentally slammed my finger in a car door — I was so happy and had been having so much fun that it didn’t bother me in the slightest.”

Jonbers

“I think the most treasured thing about Sink The Pink is that I met my family away from my real family. Glyn has been my rock for the past 12 years and literally changed my life. Sink The Pink ticked off most of my bucket list: performing in Times Square with a Spice Girl, performing on the Pyramid Stage of Glastonbury, going on a world tour… just so many fab moments. Sink The Pink was also a constant giver (take that as you will). They constantly gave to the community: partnering with Comic Relief, Not A Phase and Pink Noise, which helped countless people including myself during the pandemic.” 

Sophie Ellis-Bextor

“Sink The Pink is very special to me. I sang at the club back in the days when Sink The Pink was held at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club. The atmosphere was incredible, and I remember having that lovely feeling like I was among the best tribe, the best family. 

“Although Sink The Pink grew bigger and bigger, it never once lost the magic at its core that it had in that tiny venue. It’s a place where everyone there had completely invested in the experience of being part of it and I know it’s forever in my heart.”

The Attitude Awards issue is out now