I used to look forward to reading Lance’s columns every fortnight, it was such a highlight. They were in On The Street, Capital Q, the Sydney Star Observer (6 June 1996 to 18 Sept 1997), then back to Capital Q. I had been a journalist since the early 1980s and was totally blown away by Lance Leopard’s stream-of-consciousness columns and his chatty style and I cut them out as they were very inspiring. Over time, Lance’s writings gave me a vision of how I could write about the everyday social events I attended. He could make a trip to the convenience store next to the Taxi Club at midnight sound hilarious. He was a witty gossip writer who truly captured the 1990s GLBTIQA+ social scene.
Leopard’s lifestyle seemed so glamorous. He posted his whereabouts for the week and sometimes I’d go to a club just to bump into him and see him sashaying around.
When he was running Club Slut at Blackmarket he was dressed like Bryan Ferry and sang. I saw him in the Ladies loos and I said I loved his columns. He was so humble and seemed genuinely surprised that anyone read them. I quoted a bit from a column where he’d said he liked ABBA, and he confirmed this and — well, I can’t remember what was said, he was just charming and lovely. I was on Cloud 9.
When I went to live in England, I only took one suitcase, and Lance’s columns were among those, for inspiration. Whenever I was having a low day, I’d look over Lance’s columns and think that writing about the everyday ordinary events — whatever was happening to one’s neighbour and friends etc — was what was most exciting. Whenever I got writer’s block or was stuck for a headline idea, I’d think, “What would Lance write?” and of course something quirky would come to mind. His writing inspired the direction and topics of my own personal writing. (I mostly wrote about ABBA, Sydney Leather Pride and Queeruption events 2002-2012.)
What I like most about his columns are a quality of lightness and chattiness, and he isn’t nasty, just a gentle teasing.
Recently, I heard a story from someone who lived near him and said they’d ask him to turn the music down at some ungodly hour — they said Lance was hugely apologetic and complied straight away. So nice!
UPDATE: Simon Lloyd was Lance’s stenographer! Simon says: “The paper one day announced to Lance in 1994 that they couldn’t accept his hand-written columns any more and he needed to provide them on a floppy disc 😂😂. Lance was mortified – he didn’t even know what a floppy was, so I offered to type his columns up for him and give him a disc each week. He used to come to my place on a Monday afternoon and dictate, and we’d usually get through a bottle of vodka by the time we were finished. I think that went on for about three years 💕 He used to call me his ‘stenog’. He would be very specific on things like emphasis such as soooooo, words in bold/italics etc. It was always a hoot!”
A memorial celebration was held on 4 August 2024 at Palms, organised by Lance’s long-time friends Stephen Devine and Jason Roger Phillips, with performances by Miss 3D and Gareth Ernst and Maynard spinning the tunes. A highlight was Robert Sellars’ raffle for a short film Shortfest trophy, the Lance Leopard Award, for the most deserving short film: the prizes included some of Lance’s items, including his fave paperbacks (about Lana Turner, Joan Collins, Maynard’s book and his friend Jason Roger Phillip’s book), his red smoking jacket, fave leopard-print pants and a framed newspaper column.
Me and Kitty reminisced about Lance’s genius. Kitty said Lance never finished Year 10 as he was bullied and mum Carmel pulled him out of school. He read the greats, Truman Capote, Tennessee Williams etc, and never learnt to type, just wrote in his inimitable style naturally. “He was lazy, he didn’t do rewrites.” Though his family was touched by sadness (sister murdered and another sister died of an overdose), Carmel and Lance were, by their nature, aligned to the path of lightness and laughter.
Kitty said Lance also had the magic of making something out of nothing – eg. he decided to use someone’s shed as his home, without asking! It was down a small laneway and the owners never noticed! Lance’s friends lived nearby, so he was able to use their bathroom facilities.
We wondered why the gay newspapers he’d written for hadn’t included a link to all the back issues with his columns so we could enjoy them again? Anyway, we felt sure one day his genius at capturing the `1990s era of the Golden Mile on Oxford Street will be recognised.
Photos of Lance Leopard from his columns.
Madd Club vid with Lance Leopard
Cotton Ward 
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