This week on The Bridge, I was joined in the studio by the Unzip Collective - a queer-led creative collective quietly (and sometimes loudly) reshaping Sydney’s underground through music, performance, and community-led world building. Jacqui Cunningham’s “The Funk Inside Me” sets the tone for what’s to come - pure fire.
We started the show where Unzip began - a Mardi Gras night out, years ago, where the party they were hoping to find simply wasn’t there. Femme, queer, trans, and gender-diverse people were missing from the space - or pushed to the margins. Instead of waiting for that space to appear, Unzip decided to build it themselves. What started as a small, DIY experiment has since grown into one of the most intentional and vital underground collectives in this city, with their first release tickets selling out the same day they were released.
As they explained it, Unzip isn’t just about throwing parties - it’s about creating places where people aren’t watched, policed, or fetishised. Spaces where freedom feels real. We talked about how underground queer parties have always existed out of necessity, and how even now, visibility doesn’t always equal safety. Unzip’s events respond to that reality, they’re FLINTA-first focused, deliberately intimate, and built around trust, care, and collective responsibility.
What excites me the most is how they world build. Their parties aren’t just dance floors - they’re productions and everyone is part of that production. From Mad Max / dytopian–themed parties, t4t wrestling (in collaboration with eat for good) to daytime workshops, poetry, film screenings, and crafting sessions, Unzip is committed to offering more than just a dark room and loud music. As they put it, community can’t survive on raves alone - you need daylight, conversation, shared making, and spaces to actually see each other.
We spoke about DIY fashion and upcycling as an anti-capitalist political act - how asking people to make, reuse, and rework their outfits shifts how they show up in a space. Dressing with intention is the production. Everyone contributes to the atmosphere. Everyone is part of the work.
Music-wise, the collective shared tracks that feel deeply Unzip - Delexies “Humble Game”, which reimagines a post-capitalist sound world free from Western dominance; Yorda’s liquid, percussive drum and bass discovered via Bandcamp; and Rosa Terenzi, whose track “Stylish Tantrum” they described as the soundtrack to years of shared friendship, dance floors, and memories across so-called Sydney.
We also dug into the politics of safety - how underground spaces are often painted as dangerous, when in reality they can be more caring than traditional nightlife venues. With no bar-driven profit motive, no pressure to over-consume, and multiple ways to engage beyond drinking, Unzip’s parties encourage people to pace themselves, look out for one another, and participate more fully.
Looking ahead, the collective shared what’s coming up - T4T wrestling, MELT - (yet to be officially announced - keep an eye out on their instagram for more) a day of community workshops, daytime events, a vinyl-focused sets, and of course, where it all began, a Mardi Gras party (28th of February, 2026) intentionally limited in capacity - not to exclude, but to protect the room. As Jess put it beautifully - sometimes you have to close the door to make the room.
Before wrapping up, I asked what advice they’d give to queer people wanting to build their own spaces. Their answer was generous, grounding and LOUD… DO IT! The hunger is real. The people are out there. Make something that comes from inside you - something you can sustain - and trust that community will show up.
As we closed the show, it felt pretty clear that Unzip isn’t just responding to a gap in Sydney nightlife - they’re offering a queer blueprint to a safe haven. One built on care, collaboration, and the belief that queer spaces work best when they’re made with people, not for them.
Sydney’s better for it (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧