Before adult entertainment went digital, discreet, and disposable, there was Vivid Video — the glossy VHS-era powerhouse that turned video stores into temples of curiosity and late-night possibility. In the 1980s, the Vivid logo meant production value: sharp covers, bold typography, and tapes passed hand-to-hand, rewound carefully, and hidden behind innocuous sleeves.
The logo itself became shorthand for an entire era of home viewing — neon-lit video aisles, clamshell cases, and the quiet thrill of renting something you absolutely weren’t supposed to talk about at brunch. For queer audiences especially, those tapes were often a first glimpse of desire, freedom, and representation that didn’t exist anywhere else.
