In this op-ed, Thomas Dodd chief strategy officer at Initiative, argues that brands connect with communities only when they show up authentically, not just during pride.
Last weekend Sydney ‘s Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras glammed up, glittered and danced its way through the streets.
Pride means many things to many people such as celebration, visibility, protest, belonging. For some, it’s pure joy. For others, it’s more complicated.
For me, Pride has come to represent something I didn’t realise I needed for a long time: a sense of community and a sense of acceptance.
That acceptance came when the conversation became personal and when it connected on a human level.
Cultural moments like Pride remind us that connection doesn’t come from the scale of the event, but from the people at the centre of it.
And I believe the same principle applies to brands and how they connect with communities.
It’s easy for brands to be present in the champagne moments – the parades, the posts, the rainbow logos and visible shows of support, and those moments do matter.
But brand participation must also be authentic as communities can tell the difference between participation and performance, so it is equally important for brands to be present in the quieter moments as well, when the spotlight and sparkles have moved on and the realities communities face are still there.
When support only appears during Pride month e.g when brand colours change but policies, partnerships and investment don’t, it doesn’t build connection, it builds cynicism.
And that’s when Pride risks becoming backdrop rather than belief and becomes just a marketing moment rather than a meaningful commitment.
Rainbow washing isn’t just a reputational risk, it’s a signal to communities that the relationship is conditional – visible when it’s celebratory and commercially safe, quieter when it’s complex.
And in 2026, audiences are far too literate for that.
The brands that genuinely resonate aren’t always the ones that show up the loudest. They’re the ones that understand the human story behind the celebration and show up when there isn’t applause.
Over the last few years, some Pride campaigns that have stayed with me have done exactly that. Tourism’s Destination Pride didn’t just celebrate Pride as a global symbol. It turned the Pride flag into a data-driven reflection of equality, redesigning it for every country based on laws and protections for LGBTQIA+ people.
It’s a simple idea but a powerful one because it recognised a truth the community already knew, that where you travel isn’t just about aspiration, it’s about safety.
The campaign didn’t just show support, it also acknowledged reality, and that honesty is what made it resonate. Similarly, the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus tour through the US’s Deep South wasn’t about broadcasting a message from a distance. It was about physically showing up in places where LGBTQIA+ rights remain contested and creating moments of visibility where it rarely exists.
The power of the work came from its humanity. When the conversations became personal, the opinions were harder to keep at arm’s length.
Long-term commitment matters too.
Brands like Absolut Vodka didn’t become part of Pride culture overnight. For decades, the brand supported LGBTQIA+ artists and communities when doing so carried real risk. That consistency is what built credibility, long before it was universally brand safe.
That kind of permission can’t be created in a single campaign; it must be earned through behaviour.
We see a similar depth in Norway, where Posten Norge marked 50 years since the decriminalisation of homosexuality with “When Harry Met Santa”, a simple, human love story anchored in familiarity.
It didn’t feel opportunistic, it felt authentic and mirrored society of the moment.
Closer to home, The Pinnacle Foundation through Make Awkward Awesome focused on one of the hardest realities for many young LGBTQIA+ people: not knowing how the people closest to them will react.
By encouraging families to start the conversation first, the organisation shifted from commentary to participation helping create belonging before someone had to ask for it.
And that’s the difference.
Authenticity in Pride isn’t about perfection, it’s about alignment.
Alignment between what a brand says publicly and what it supports privately; the juncture between campaign messaging and company policy and between seasonal visibility and year-round action.
The big event, such as Sydney’s Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras creates visibility, but the event itself doesn’t cement belief.
Belief is built in the quieter moments: in honesty, in sustained investment, in showing up when it’s uncomfortable or complex.
The brands that last aren’t the ones that glitter the brightest for a weekend, they’re the ones that participate with integrity long after the sparkles have faded, and often, those are the moments that feel just as powerful as the celebration itself.
