On Saturday 20 June, the 2026 Dyke March took place in London. Below, photographer Elif Gonen shares her experience of the march.

I first went to Pride in my home country, Turkey, in 2019, and it was as chaotic as you could imagine. The police fired rubber bullets and tear gas into a crowd trapped in a narrow alley with nowhere to escape. A week later, I attended my first London Pride and was astonished to see banks and corporations parading rainbow-covered buses while having active business in Turkey, where many of them had said or done nothing in support of LGBTQ+ people just a couple days earlier. Experiencing both in the same week changed how I saw London Pride. To me, it had become a corporate carousel, where support for queer rights was celebrated only when it was profitable and convenient.

I haven’t been back to London Pride since. Instead, I started going to Trans Pride and Dyke March, both organised by the community itself. These feel less like a performance and more like what Pride was always meant to be: a protest, a celebration, and a space where queer people create something for one another.

When I arrived at this year’s Dyke March, hardly anyone was there. It was just me and a handful of others waiting in the square. Within an hour, that small gathering had transformed into a crowd of thousands. People arrived carrying spare cardboard, markers and tape, offering them to strangers so everyone could make their own banners. Some came in full leather outfits in 30 degree heat, others brought instruments to lead the march. There was a feeling that everyone belonged, whether they had come alone or with a group.

There was an incredible range of people. Leather dykes, femmes, dolls, sex workers, furries, older and younger dykes, people with their kids and dogs. For a few hours every version of lesbian identity existed side-by-side, as we celebrated our existence.

As the band at the front began to play, the march slowly made its way through central London towards Hyde Park, passing confused tourists and people waving from their cars in support. Once we arrived, everyone settled onto the grass while speakers addressed the crowd. Throughout the day, people were constantly taking photos and filming. Everyone seemed happy to be photographed; I assumed it was because these are the moments we will look back on in years to come when remembering lesbian history.