Meet our favorite artists at the Pride Parade

T-Love has been a staple of San Diego Pride for years. (Photo by Nathan Rupert, July 2014)

There’s nothing quite like the Pride Parade. Up to 300,000 spectators turn out for San Diego’s largest civic event of the year, dressed in colorful and delightful attire. This year, three hundred contingents of 10,000 marchers will march through Hillcrest to Balboa Park, each trying to outdo the other floats (and from my personal experience, the competition for marchers will be fierce).

For veterans and newcomers alike, the experience promises to be memorable. After attending multiple times, I’ve developed my own favorites among the contingents. And not just the most impressive float or the jaw-dropping dance troupe, I’ve found individual people to watch who embody the energy of Pride. In blistering heat and pouring rain, these performers give their all for the crowd, radiating joy, talent, and verve.

Judy with the big ass

Lesbians on bikes always kick off the parade. Among the leather-clad bikers, Tanya Trujillo stands out: she’s the one riding a unicorn. Trujillo started doing Big Booty Judy in 2015 to impress a lover. Since then, the unicorn’s ample behind has been a staple of the opening contingent. Even in 2020, when there was no official Pride parade, Dykes on Bikes with favorite Judy rode through Hillcrest.

“The smiles and pure enthusiasm are what keeps me going every year,” Trujillo said.

Every year, Trujillo upgrades the sculpture attached to his bike a little bit. From the sparkly rainbow-striped horn to the extra-long eyelashes, Judy is crafted with love. The white unicorn with a rainbow mane and tail started wearing black-and-white plaid tights in 2023. It covers a bejeweled tattoo (many people regret their tattoos, unicorns included). Her hooves are now rainbow, too.

Big Booty Judy’s ride is also a popular photo spot during Pride weekend. It even has its own Instagram page where Trujillo announced more changes for this year’s parade.

T-Love on Dr. Bronner

Dr. Bronner’s has a unique approach to advertising. You won’t see commercials for their sustainable soap and other products, but you will see choreographer Terry Love Lenley, known as T-Love, giving it his all at events around the world. “We’re their advertisements,” Lenley said. “Anytime they need to give a gift to the community, they send us.”

Lenley is a San Diego native who received a dance scholarship that launched his career. “I can travel all over the world and dance anywhere, but I always come back here,” he said. “I’m coming home, it’s very special to me.”

Lenley is a former Chippendale dancer who now uses his considerable talents to spread Dr. Bronner’s message of love for all. At West Coast parades, Lenley performs stunts atop a converted fire truck with a platform built into the ladder, accompanied by DJ RhythMx.

At the Pride Parade, “people are just happy,” Lenley said. “I want to give back.”

The safety harness covers more skin than his costume. His braids are an extension of his dance moves, swirling around him as he twirls for the crowd (something that requires careful neck stretching beforehand and leaves him limping when finished). Some of the younger performers who flex oiled muscles and shake their half-hearted butts should take a leaf out of the 58-year-old’s book.

After more than a decade of performing with Dr. Bronner, Lenley’s favorite memory is of the parade being hit by the 2015 hurricane.

“It was raining, it was raining hard, and yet the parade was still going on. My heart was just open. It was just open… People can just come in and find shelter. But no, they were there,” he recalled. “Love was really at its peak that day.”

Ahead of this year’s performance, Lenley advised people to check out his colorful wardrobe designed by his “brilliant” friend Tendar.

The Exuberance of Renee Robertson

Environmental services is far from the most glamorous department in the city, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at former ESD Director Renee Robertson. The militarized police vehicles and gigantic school buses are a far cry from the garbage truck. Strapped into the back of the rainbow-colored truck, she waved to the crowd with palpable enthusiasm.

She was stunned to learn that her unprecedented enthusiasm stood out from the dozens of contingents. “Partying with a group of strangers is not my usual thing,” said Robertson, who generally avoids crowds.

Robertson is a longtime spectator turned 2022 Pride Parade participant. As a Nazarene student in Point Loma in the early 2000s, her first Pride parade appearance made her realize how important the LGBTQ+ community truly is. Decades later, driving the truck has revealed to her the breadth and diversity of her hometown. Robertson also became a mother during the pandemic and cares deeply about the city’s public service. Watching families cheer on the trash collector at the Pride parade connected all aspects of her life at once.

“I don’t think there are many places on Earth you can go and feel so much safety, excitement, openness and celebration at the same time,” Robertson mused.

Robertson has since moved to a new department, becoming the deputy director of the Homeless Strategies and Solutions Department, which has no contingent. The Homeless Strategies and Solutions Department is also not participating this year, and it’s no wonder. Without your boss swinging wildly around in the back of a garbage truck, what’s the point?

You may see Robertson in another city contingent this year, depending on his son. If Jack is old enough to enjoy being a spectator, they will be cheering him on from the stands and happy to chat with other PLNU alumni.

San Diego Gay Bird

I have never seen this latter performer in person. The San Diego Gay Bird was a staple of Pride parades in the 80s and early 90s. Photos show her strutting around in pink and purple feathers galore at these celebrations, but at some point, the Gay Bird stopped attending.

San Diego borrows many traditions from other cities. Pride commemorates the Stonewall riots in New York City. There is no commemorative march for the 1971 SDPD protest or the 1974 May Company picket lines that sparked the local LGBTQ+ movement. Trujillo and other Dykes on Bikes are leading the parade because of a tradition that originated in San Francisco. That’s not a bad thing, but San Diego should also maintain its own history and traditions. Why not start by bringing back the San Diego Gay Bird?

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the gay bird must fly again. There is a whole contingent of furries, and surely one of them can recreate this icon. I hope that like Robertson, this costumed individual will return to light up San Diego’s biggest annual celebration.