Nearly five decades after the birth of gay liberation at the Stonewall uprising in New York, queer people still love to come together in celebration.

But, in a world where gays are more "out and proud" than ever before, it seems they are finding solidarity around a new focus — their shared understanding of gender.

Does this mean the gay liberationists' dream for a genderless society has come true? And if so, is a queer culture once united by struggle in danger of fading away?

Out of the closet

At 11:00pm on a Friday, in one of Melbourne's most lively party districts, a line of eager young clubbers is forming.

It's still early, so there's friendly banter between those in line, rather than the adrenaline-fuelled urgency that characterises partying at dawn.

A gaggle of teenage girls, tightly linking arms, appear. They walk by as if they just happen to be in the area, glimpse inside, and then move on, deciding to do another few laps around the block as things get busier.

Inside, there are just a few brave souls — a group of three doing wide sweeps of the dance floor. One identifies as a gay man, the other as a queer woman, the third as non-binary. All three have similar buzz-cuts with floppy fringes and matching shoes that flash fluorescent colours as they move.

This is the queer dance party, Closet. Every month it's held at a different venue, but it's always in Melbourne's grungy inner north and is known for its "hipster chic" aesthetic. Closet events attract around 500 people.

"We are quite open with public displays of affection, but it's not without self-consciousness," say David (24) and Jake (23). ( ABC RN: Jeremy Story Carter )

Closet is clearly a queer party — but it's starkly different to the queer gatherings of a decade ago.

"When I was first going out to gay bars in the early 2000s, they were a bit depressing and tragic and very ghettoised," says Anna Whitelaw, one of Closet's organisers.

"Back then, there was only one way to look as a gay woman and I would see older lesbians and be like: 'Oh, I hope I don't become one of them.'"

Ms Whitelaw and co-founder Mason Browne threw the first Closet eight years ago. With the tagline "a party for homosexuals and those who love them", the idea was to have an event for a "new generation of gays" who felt "older gay venues didn't speak to them or belong to them".

Finding safe places

Closet is typical of a new kind of LGBT party that has popped up in all of Australia's major cities.

Ms Whitelaw explains that gay people today are coming out younger and growing up in a world where they are more socially accepted.

They are seeing diverse role models in life and pop culture, Ms Whitelaw says, which means they are "less ashamed and less internally homophobic than my generation was from very beginning".

"There is still the risk for queer people when the go out that they may be threatened with violence," says Brian (27). ( ABC RN: Jeremy Story Carter )

Robbie, a 24-year-old who identifies as cis gay man, is waiting in line.

"I don't think I ever felt the need to be a 'boy boy'," he says.

"My parents were like, 'you always wanted to be a ballerina like your sister' and I can't think of any moment where I felt ashamed."

Robbie often comes to parties like Closet, and says: "It's like going home."

But Robbie went to a school with "plenty of other gay boys" and gay teachers, and watched Will and Grace and Queer as Folk as standard weekend activities.

For him, going to these gatherings is not about undoing internalised homophobia or hiding from the straight world.

"It's about having a safe place, where young queer people can examine their gender and their queerness and step out for the first time into another gender role and gender expression."

Ms Whitelaw says this focus on gender identity, rather than sexuality, is typical of the new queer scene. She says gays have always broken gender rules, but that when she was coming out that happened in a very rigid or "binary" way.

As a gay woman, she says, you had to look butch or femme and you had to stick to that role for good.

Gender fluidity

Today, the idea of gender as a spectrum, where you can go back and forth between being more masculine or feminine, has become far more common.

This change, Ms Whitelaw says, means the queer scene is still primarily for people who are same-sex attracted and, as a minority, gay people will always want to be in a place where they can be the majority, see themselves reflected and celebrate their common identity.

But she says the scene is now open to anyone who feels restricted by the rules around gender, no matter who they sleep with. And at parties like Closet, you now see a much wider range or gender and sexual identities represented.

"My parents wouldn't understand genderqueer. It's not their fault, but they didn't talk about these things growing up," says Ollie (18), with Tessa (19) and Jen (18). ( ABC RN: Jeremy Story Carter )

Tonight, Closet's attendees include people who are gender-fluid, transgender or non-binary, an equal mix of men and women, and those who identify as gay, straight, queer or pansexual.

Ollie, an 18-year-old who identifies as genderqueer and lesbian, is here with girlfriend Tessa, who identifies as gay, and friend Jen, who identifies as bi.

The three say they are at Closet for the same reason gays have always gathered in "queer only" spaces — to be "free of homophobia" and "to hang out in a place where you are not watched or judged".

But they also like to be in a place where a more "fluid" idea of gender is the norm.

Ollie is "comfortable in the body I was born in", but was always bothered by the "stereotypes of what it is to be female". When they discovered the genderqueer identity, it allowed them to feel "happier and freer".

Ollie is out to their parents about their gayness but not their genderqueer identity — and hopes that one day all parties and all of society will be as "open and welcoming" as this one.

Ollie's experience is echoed by many of the young partygoers at Closet.

They're there for the same reasons queer people came together decades ago: to be in a place where they are not in the minority, to see an image of themselves reflected back at them, and to celebrate queer culture with their "own tribe".

And as the world becomes more accepting, it seems spaces like this are turning into what the gay liberationists strived for: genderless worlds without shame, where gay identity is celebrated with what writer Andrew Solomon describes as an "authentic exuberance, rather than an exuberance born out of pain".

If you identify as LGBTIQ, what's the place where you feel safe and celebrated and why? How did you discover it? Share your story by using the hashtag #Homotopia on Twitter or Facebook, or by emailing earshot@your.abc.net.au.