Yes, I am a Fucking Lesbian
Experience the largest girl party music festival in the world — Dinah Shore.
The One & Only, Dinah Shore
Each spring, the Dinah in Palm Springs transforms the desert into the world’s largest girl party, a joyous celebration of music, fashion and community that pulses from poolside bashes to rooftop raves. It’s a vibrant, liberating weekend where lifelong friendships are born, performers shine and every sunset feels like an encore.
Dinah’s History
In 1991, Mariah Hanson planted a spark at the Palm Springs Modern Art Museum — an intimate gathering of women sipping martinis amid priceless modern masterpieces. That spark ignited into The Dinah: a now-legendary celebration that reimagined Palm Springs as a bold, joyful queer playground. Over the years, the festival has drawn headline talent and pop-culture moments — think Tegan and Sara, Salt ’N Pepa, Ke$ha, Lady Gaga and Katy Perry — while becoming its own icon. Today The Dinah unfolds like a day-to-night festival: sun-soaked pool parties with DJs and bikinis, then after-dark takeovers of local music venues where cocktails pour and live performances turn the night electric.
Update | The Dinah Shore Weekend is turning a fresh page. After founder Mariah Hanson stepped down in 2025, longtime organizers Bella Barkow and Rose Garcia of BellaRose Productions bought the festival — vowing to keep it indie, community-driven and full of heart. Expect the next big celebration March 31–April 4, 2027, as the event enters an exciting new chapter under familiar hands.
Let’s Get There
I’ll admit — I never saw myself at an event like this and even made jokes about it but once I went, my skepticism evaporated. A friend and her wife handled almost every detail (despite my reservations) and what unfolded was unexpectedly wonderful. We left Chicago early Thursday, landed in Los Angeles and headed east. Though Palm Springs has its own airport, flying into L.A. and driving the two-hour stretch in a rental ended up being far more economical — and the desert views along the way were an added bonus.
Day One
We checked into the Hilton Palm Springs, picked up our wristbands from the event coordinator and dropped our bags. We’d purposely booked the Hilton because it was hosting the Dinah pool parties — why live pool life from afar when you can be steps away? Being so close let us dart back to the room for a quick cocktail or to freshen up between sets, which turned out to be the perfect game plan.
Before we had to return the rental, we grabbed snacks and drinks at a nearby grocery and set off to wander the hotel and downtown. Palm Springs surprised me — it was utterly charming. Locals greeted us with warm smiles and upbeat energy and the constant sunshine and balmy air made everything feel effortlessly happy.
That night, we headed to Zelda’s for the opening party. We’d already bought a $200 ticket package that guaranteed entry to every event and let us skip the lines. The bar pulsed with awesome DJs, standout performances, fresh faces and a steady stream of drinks. The highlight for me was Butterscotch — an unforgettable set from an insanely talented performer.
The room hummed with electric energy. I felt a thrill being swept into something rare and alive — a circle of women unguarded and full of life. Familiar faces dotted the crowd and to my delight, I ran into a friend from Chicago.
The music kept everyone moving until the early hours, then we stumbled back to the hotel and collapsed into beds — perfect fuel for what promised to be an unforgettable weekend.
Day Two
The next morning, the girls and I picked a sunny spot by the pool and grabbed breakfast. We spent the rest of the day there, soaking up the sun, surrounded by gorgeous people and thumping music. Water stations lined the deck and cocktail booths dotted the area — tip your bartender well if you want generous pours.
Just beyond the pool fence, a lively row of vendor booths had sprung up — colorful stalls hawking handmade goods and banners raising awareness about pressing issues in the LGBTQ community.
I wandered through the hum of conversation and music, and bumped into a handful of new friends, including a photographer capturing the spirit of the day. She’d flown in just for the event and was buzzing about what an incredible gig it was — one of those rare assignments that feels meaningful and exhilarating all at once.
After the pool party, we wandered into town, hunting for a bite and trading highlights from our first day. I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in ages — and the wild part is, it all starts again tomorrow.
After dinner, we made our way to the Hard Rock Hotel (now Hotel Zoso) for the much-anticipated White Party. The hotel buzzed with energy — multiple lounges and pop-up nooks invited guests to mingle — while the main hall pulsed with live performances that stole the show, turning the night into a high-voltage celebration.
The White Party is known for its glamorous all-white dress code; the event blends celebrity performances, stylish crowds and a liberating sense of community. Beyond the parties, attendees often find meaningful connections through daytime panels, wellness sessions and spontaneous gatherings that make Dinah Shore as much about sisterhood as it is about spectacle.
Day Three
Saturday morning we headed back to the pool, ready for another day of sun, beats and people-watching. We sprawled out on loungers, letting the sun melt into our skin while DJs spun one irresistible set after another. The atmosphere was electric — not just the music but the crowd: radiant, joyful, proud.
What surprised me most was the incredible diversity. Dinah felt like a living mosaic — every kind of woman you could imagine, gathered for the same reasons: inclusion, support, fun and community. Being there gave me a warmth I hadn’t expected — a rare, deep sense of belonging and pride in a culture I was only beginning to know.
After splashing around, we wandered out for a casual bite and a little downtime to recharge before the night’s plans.
That night belonged to the Black Party — the main event. The DJ pulsed out relentless beats, performers lit up the stage and the atmosphere crackled with electricity. We wandered through the crowd, striking up conversations with strangers who felt instantly like friends, surrendering to the music until dawn began to blur the edges of the night.
The Black Party is a legendary, high-energy late-night celebration that draws thousands of queer women and allies to the desert. Known for its electrifying DJ sets, bold fashion statements and unapologetic party vibe, the event has become a cornerstone of Dinah Weekend’s nightlife scene. Held with pulsing lights and a festival-like production, the Black Party blends glamour and grit — equal parts dance-floor euphoria and communal, celebratory freedom.
Day Four
The next morning brought Dinah’s grand finale at the Hilton: the Wet and Wild Pool Party — and it lived up to every expectation. By mid-morning, the pool deck buzzed with laughter, music pulsing through the warm air as DJs mixed tropical house and classic party anthems. Inflatable loungers bobbed on the water like colorful islands, while a line of attendants kept the signature cocktails flowing — bright, fruity concoctions rimmed with sugar and slices of citrus.
We soaked up our last hours of sunshine beneath a flawless sky, the hotel’s palms swaying gently and casting playful shadows across the pool. The vibe was equal parts relaxed resort chic and energetic bash: impromptu dance-offs broke out by the shallow end, couples drifted on floaties and groups of friends staged an unofficial ball toss contest that sent an unexpected spray over spectators.
By then, we felt more at home than ever. The past few days had settled into a comfortable rhythm — boozy brunches, long naps, late-night chats — and those routines had a way of knitting strangers into friends. We swapped travel tips and life stories with new companions beside the pool, trading laughter and contact information as easily as sunscreen. Little moments — a shared plate of fries, a synchronized jump into the water, cheering someone’s daring slide — turned the party into something genuinely communal and unforgettable.
When the sun dipped lower and the party mellowed into golden-hour cocktails and relaxed conversation, it felt less like an ending and more like a sweet, sunlit punctuation mark on an incredible few days.
The girls headed back from the pool before dusk but I lingered, soaking up the warm air and easy, happy energy. After a restorative nap, we took the evening to The Tropicale — tasty plates and a leafy, candlelit patio setting that felt perfectly relaxed. Zelda’s was buzzing once again for the Closing Party, so we popped in briefly but after days of nonstop sun and fun we were wiped and decided to call it an early night.
Day Five
Monday morning, we gathered our things, snagged the rental car and headed for LAX — trading palm trees for the impending chill of Chicago. I expected a weekend of theatrics and wild antics but instead found something utterly different: quiet strength, genuine connection and an unexpected sisterhood. Meeting so many remarkable women was a revelation — proof that even when you feel isolated, others are walking the same path. The whole event hummed with positive energy and I soaked up every minute of it.
