Festi-fashion: the good, the bad and the Glastonbury
IT’S PROBABLY EASIER to list the events that havenõt been cancelled this summer than those that have. But for many, there’s one gap in the social calendar that will hurt more than most: Glastonbury.
If things had been business as usual this year, the festival would have just celebrated its 50th anniversary. We should, by now, have been decoding Taylor Swift’s headline performance and inundated with pictures of, to use the tabloid parlance, ‘revellers’ in various states of sobriety/hygiene/undress.
And, of course, we will also have been
taking note of what the Aaa-set were wearing. Because even for those of us who are more pyramid teabags than Pyramid Stage, or for whom mushrooms will only ever be a pizza topping, Glastonbury’s muddy catwalk has become essential viewing.
Festival fashion is a strange business (and make no mistake, a business it is; one shudders to think what has happened to stocks in festival crowns this summer). When else – apart from Christmas party season perhaps – can otherwise sentient, stylish women be convinced to daub themselves head-to-toe in glitter? So what are the lessons we can learn from 50 years of the good, the bad and the ‘please don’t post that’ of Glastonbury style? And how can we translate them to lockdown life?
For starters, it’s important to remember the number one rule of a successful festival look: comfort and practicality are key. No, it doesn’t sound very rock’n’roll, but what doesn’t look very rock’n’roll is hobbling about in shoes you can’t walk in or schvitzing in leather you can’t breathe in (one past visitor reports having to cut a pair of leather trousers into shorts on the first day). Think hats, shades and SPF if it’s sunny; anoraks and wipe-clean PVC if it’s not. Sturdy boots are a Glasto staple, be it Sienna Miller’s Western styles, Victoria Beckham’s lace-ups or everyone’s Hunter wellies.
The Glasto-approved way to do practicality is to team it with something incongruously razzy; it’s all about the high/ low mix. So, consider adding a shot of something sparkly to your weekend walk or toughening up that prairie dress with a leather jacket. Sometimes mixed messages are a good thing. Take your cue from Alexa Chung’s metallic minidress worn with a Barbour jacket or Kate Moss in anything lurex/sequinned with anything khaki/ camping-appropriate.
Speaking of Mossy, she remains the ultimate Glastonbury style pin-up. The mini smock dresses, the gilets, the skintight trousers, the studded belts, the hot pants, the moccasin boots, she triumphs again and again. The reason Kate’s look always works is that she channels the hippy heyday of Woodstock but filters it through a modern lens. The late ’60s and ’70s are the perfect jumping-off point for festival season and, since we are being promised a post-lockdown summer of love, not a bad place to start now either. Just avoid taking the memo literally – the downfall of many a Coachella style casualty. It’s not fancy dress, remember (unless it actually is, in which case, go wild!). A fringe here and a tassel there should suffice. The waistcoat has been an unexpected hero piece over the years – just go for the ‘picked this up in Marrakech’ variety rather than a Gareth south gate-in-the-dug out style.
Perhaps the most pertinent lesson to learn from the festival, however, is that in reality it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing (the only no-go is a culturally insensitive accessory; a sacred Native American headdress is not a photo op). Nobody dropped £265 on a ticket to see your outfit, so why not try out that piece you’ve felt daunted by in the past and dress like nobody’s Instagramming?
And look on the bright side. Style-wise there are some trends that just wouldn’t work on Worthy Farm (head-to-toe white, all-in-ones) that you can embrace now you have easy access to flushing toilets and hot showers. Summer 2020 doesn’t need to be a social washout, just think of it as your dress rehearsal.