In the last weekend of September, something special went down in a New Jersey campground. About 350 women-loving queer folks gathered for Lezapalooza, an annual lesbian-centric camping retreat founded in 2021 by four friends.
Gray clouds hovered and a near-constant mist fell on the sprawling campground—its dirt paths and grassy clearings, serene lake, and sandy beach. Nevertheless, the energy of this year’s Lezapalooza was as sunny as could be—full of lesbian, and otherwise sapphic, lust, love, and light.
Lust was on display in a Friday evening Spin the Bottle game, which was embraced as a normal, fun way to break the ice (and maybe lead to more). Game encounters included sweet pecks but also instances where the steam between partners was palpable. Lust was also visible in flirtatious introductions on the event app, touches between strangers by a fire, and myriad other moments.
Love was clearly in the air, too. Along with the embraces of people who came as partners or besties, two epic events centered queer love.
First, at the end of the opening ceremony Friday night, Lezapalooza co-organizer Melissa “P-Dog” Puleo surprised her partner Mel D. with a proposal on stage. “Nothing else felt as significant as doing [the proposal] here,” Puleo told Tagg Magazine, explaining she and Mel met at the first Lezapalooza. “It felt like a full-circle moment.”
Then, on Saturday, there was a surprise post-Jell-O wrestling wedding between campers Olivia D. and Caitlin S. The couple’s vows were both hilariously dirty and deeply moving, and tears of joy rippled through the crowd. “We have some family members who aren’t as supportive… and we just wanted a day where [not] a single person was going to have a problem that we were getting married,” said Caitlin. “It was just to be surrounded by community and joy, and that was wonderful.”
Campers Olivia D. and Caitlin S. read their vows
in their surprise Lezapalooza wedding. (Photo: Amanda Ostuni)
The wedding and proposal were the first such events to happen at a Lezapalooza weekend. But that’s not all that set this year’s retreat apart from predecessors. Puleo said things seemed calmer, with pieces meshing better and people more able to choose their own adventure rather than worrying about hitting every event. She said that’s partly because there were less one-off activities on the agenda than usual. Lezapalooza founder/producer Liz Klakowicz also noted there were more `Pooza veterans present, to help set an especially comfortable tone for newcomers, which, in turn, allowed for more individual customization of the weekend.
“Campers are starting to… [make] Lezapalooza what they want it to be, and not just what we wanted it to be,” said event co-organizer Carina Jamison.
Underscoring the event’s logistical elements and the numerous displays of lesbian and sapphic love, there was an undeniable sense of light—lightness of community, kindness, and a dispelling of judgment and inhibitions.
Campers take to the lake for a daytime skinny dip on Friday. (Photo: McKenna Christine Poe @mcpphoto on Instagram)
Light was neighbors helping one another erect tents. Light was everyone in Spin the Bottle advocating for equal participation, boundaries often being explicitly asked for.
Light was the body positivity set by people enjoying lake skinny dips—and no one scorning those who kept their clothes or swimsuits on. Light was how, even in fiercely competitive activities—e.g., dodgeball and Jell-O wrestling—no one yelled at refs or opponents; the tone was serious, yet amazingly supportive.
Light was the laughter that filled the air everywhere. Light, in the most literal sense, was the glow bracelets and blacklight paint worn by carefree dancing bodies, disrupting the darkness of night at Saturday’s dance party.
Drag kings Cyrus K. Stratton, Jayden Jamison (@thegoldendragking), and Mister Right (@_mister.right_) get steamy during a drag brunch performance.
(Photo: Amanda Ostuni)
Personally, light was also me letting go.
I let go of fear and second-guessing. For once, I managed to avoid overthinking, and just trust vibes and instincts, so that I simply said or did what felt right moment to moment.
I let go of expectations. I have a tendency to enter a situation with a fantastical vision of what should/could happen–e.g., an immediate meet-cute with the perfect person, followed by a movie montage of encounters, and so on. Of course, if (when) that vision doesn’t unfold, disappointment kills me. But somehow, throughout Lezapalooza, I shook that habit and just enjoyed the present.
I credit my letting go, the resulting lightness, and all the benefits that followed partly to my own mental work before Lezapalooza. However, it likely had a lot to do with the Lezapalooza way—the fresh air, the thrill of possibilities, being surrounded by awesome people with at least some form of shared identity and experience. In that lightness of my own mind and Lezapalooza’s energy, I thrived. I had an even better experience than I’d dared hope.
(Photo: McKenna Christine Poe @mcpphoto on Instagram)
Lezapalooza 2024 had its flaws. For example, food offerings were limited, and personally, even with the scaled back agenda, I wished that either there were less overlapping activities, or the weekend would simply be longer, because I felt I couldn’t do everything I wanted. But these shortcomings pale in comparison to how joy seemed to rule the weekend. Plus, Lezapalooza organizers are already thinking about improvements for next year’s iteration.
“We always want to understand ‘how can we continue to make this event more comfortable, more fulfilling, more joyful for people’,” said co-organizer Jessica Orso.
Lezapalooza 2024 seems like a hard bar to clear, but based on my experience, it seems you really can’t go wrong with a gathering of hundreds of sapphics in the woods.
“We’re all just happy to be together,” said Puleo. “And that space is almost limitless.”
Indeed, no matter how uncomfortable or cold I got from wet clothes and chilly rain, the environment of queer love and lust was a campfire for my soul–it made me warm, it lit me up, and it had me wanting s’more. Lezapalooza 2025, I’m coming for you.
