HRNY: A Party That Means It
- Amir Morris
- 6 hours ago
- 5 min read
When I see the word "Horny" in a party name, I know exactly what I'm signing up for. And I go anyway. Every time.
— WHAT IS HRNY? —
HRNY (@cometoh_rny) is a São Paulo queer party that made its debut at Teatro Mars to what can only be described as a euphoric reception, the kind of first night that makes something a permanent fixture on the calendar. The premise is simple and unapologetic: queer bodies, electronic music, performance art, and a space where uninhibited self-expression isn't tolerated, it's the entire point. The Pride edition took it further.
I went with my boyfriends Marcos and Henrique. They're more low-key and out of the limelight, no photos, by their choice — but they're good company for a night like this. We ran into friends early and spent most of the night moving through the space as a group, which is honestly the best way to experience a party you can't fully predict.
— MY PHILOSOPHY, BRIEFLY —
If you know me, you know I'm no stranger to kink. I wouldn't put myself high on the scale, but I live by a rule: try everything three times before you decide. The first time you're curious and don't know how you feel. The second time there's still some hesitation. By the third, you know — you're in, or you're absolutely not. Both are valid answers.
More importantly, I don't yuck anyone's yum. What happens between consenting adults in a space built for exactly that is not my business to judge. My business is to show up, take it all in, and occasionally, just watch. And oh, did I have a lot to watch at the Pride edition.
— THE LOOK —
Most of my closet is still in storage
from my Chicago move, so I was working with what I'd grabbed on my last trip back — and when I say small, I mean small. For HRNY I went with a look from The Pack: a reflective harness with iridescent blue-purple straps that caught every bit of light in that red-lit room, mesh shorts, and a garter detail that walked the line between masc and subtle fem exactly where I wanted it. Paired with Funky glasses. I felt like a gay blade and I stand by it.
— THE VENUE —
Three levels: a smoke area at ground level, a main dance floor, and an overlooking balcony. Industrial bones, intentionally designed — dimly lit, glowing red, with an upside-down cross that made the whole room pulse like a heartbeat. The kind of space that sets a tone before a single note plays.
I didn't spend much time in the smoke area, hot take, I'm actively waiting for cigarettes to go completely out of style. But I will say: it was the best spot in the building to see everyone's faces clearly and catch genuine conversation when you needed a moment to recoup. Something about stepping out of the dark and into slightly more light made people actually talk to each other.
— THE PERFORMANCES —
The main dance floor had an elevated stage, and that stage did not rest all night.
First: Gabriel Bacury (@gabrielbacury) on aerial — except not silk. Heavy-duty chains. The kind that clank when they move, the kind built to hold actual weight. He did everything on them. It was physically extraordinary and completely in the spirit of the night — beautiful and a little dangerous and absolutely São Paulo.
Then came burlesque. The performer — @galezya — arrived in what I can only describe as a furry alien: white feathers, crystal beading, a full face mask, iridescent detail everywhere, and an energy that made the red room feel like it had been built specifically for this moment. It was elaborate, theatrical, and completely committed. I was transfixed.
And then the fisters took the stage. I'll let that sentence breathe for a moment. On an elevated platform. In front of everyone. With the casual professionalism of people who are genuinely excellent at what they do and have nothing whatsoever to prove about it.
Credit to @candy_rique, @iagotuxe, @tha______is, and @leonasouki for the full visual and sonic experience of the night alongside DJ @belisamurta, whose sets gave the room exactly the charge it needed.
At some point while dancing I noticed the music had shifted. Not sexy. Not sensual. Raunchy. Primal. Scored specifically for fucking. There's no more precise way to describe it.
And sure enough — the dance floor thinned. I looked up at the balcony and it was full. Bodies moving in rhythm, additional bodies attached or gathered close. The party had split itself into two entirely different parties happening simultaneously, in the same building, both completely correct.
Shortly after, two women — I'm assuming WLW, and either way they gave that energy with full commitment — were on that same elevated stage going down on each other with the casual confidence of people who had made themselves completely at home. I'm fairly sure they weren't on the official program. But to me? Art. I love when queer women take up space in rooms marketed as predominantly male. It was exactly right. I watched for a moment, then made my way to the side of the room and kept dancing — solo, in my corner, to deep tribal bass.
— VITA —
I am a lyrics person. Always have been. So when Vita (@vitapereiraa) took the stage at 4am with her dancers/performers @franglamglam and @clay_bitch_nasc, I was in heaven.
Vita is my latest Brazilian obsession and I say that with full conviction. A multiartist and São Paulo queer scene fixture, formerly of the duo Irmãs de Pau, she released her debut solo album Vita's House earlier this year — a celebration of queer music culture in São Paulo that pulls from house, funk, dancehall, ballroom, and Brazilian bass without hierarchy. She describes it as music that "satisfies the hunger of the flesh." Watching her perform live at 4am in a room already running at that temperature was one of those moments that reminds you exactly why São Paulo nightlife is in its own category.
There are no skips on that album. I'm not being hyperbolic. Listen to it front to back.
— THE CLOSER —
After Vita finished, I felt like I'd gotten my money's worth three times over. The venue started to clear. My body said stay. So we went back to my apartment, I did a wardrobe change, and we bought tickets to Project Kevin — which, if you read that post, you already know how that ended.
HRNY is the kind of night that only works because everyone in the room agreed, silently, without negotiation to show up as exactly who they are. Not a performance of freedom. but actual freedom, you know? You feel the difference the moment you walk in.
If you're the kind of person who believes a truly uninhibited queer space is worth seeking out, where art, desire, music, and community exist without apology in the same room, HRNY is that space. Or to qoute Ke$ha There's a place I know if you're lookin' for a show. Where they go hardcore and there's glitter on the floor. And they turn me on when they take it off. When they take it off, everybody take it off. Go with an open mind. Dress for yourself. Leave your judgment at the door, because nobody inside brought any.
São Paulo Pride 2026 gave me a lot of nights. This was the one I keep turning over in my head. ALL PHOTOS BY: https://www.instagram.com/feliperufinno/
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