DAMAGE CONTROL Pink Pony club rebrands to ‘TRIBE @ 231’: Now for everyone, but probably not really

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Sydney’s shortest-lived gay club, Pink Pony, has officially been rebranded as TRIBE @ 231, marking one of the fastest public backflips in Oxford Street history.

The venue, which opened as “specifically for 18-35 (state of mind) gay men,” faced near-immediate backlash. Why, you ask? Turns out naming your bar after a lesbian anthem while quietly banning lesbians isn’t exactly the PR masterstroke they thought it’d be.

“Of course the girls will be welcome, but it would certainly be our desire that it is predominantly gay boys, and when I say predominantly, I’m sort of talking 90 per cent plus,” co-owner Kevin Du-Val told Gay Sydney News earlier this month.

Now, just a few weeks later, the owners have announced that Pink Pony is no more. In its place: the all-inclusive, all-caps TRIBE @ 231. A new identity that promises to welcome everyone…which feels totally legit (not).

What’s really happened here?

It’s hard to ignore how devoid this rebrand feels of any genuine self-reflection. Having previously doubled down, it’s not unreasonable to assume this is less a reckoning and more a panic move. It’s the kind that happens when a few thousand quote-tweets start to really sting.

“We have taken the time to see from the perspective of others in our community and see that we appeared arrogant and selfish. For that, we are sorry,” reads their statement. Or, to paraphrase: “We listened, we learned, and we launched a new logo.” Because, as we all know, authenticity is best expressed in Helvetica Bold.

Yes, the updated messaging now stresses inclusivity, and that’s always a good thing. But realistically, it’s still hard to see the change as anything but performative. After all, you can’t name yourself after a lesbian anthem, introduce a 90 per cent twink quota, and then rebrand as a “tribe” two weeks later. That’s not reflection or growth, that’s just a PR crisis in drag.

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Me and myself
Me and myself
12 days ago

It’s dead. Like no one ther at 10:30 on Friday night. Two drinks. Moscow mule so vodka and ginger beer. $45. Looks nice. Dead on arrival. The screen shows a barcode to chose your song when there is a DJ playing should we say standing there. Sad and pathetic. Close the doors stuff