I’m loath to admit it, but it’s been an actual decade since I’ve attended a music festival. The last one was held on an island, the Toronto Island to be exact, with a characteristically mid-2000s line-up that included M.I.A., The Killers and Tokyo Police Club. While admission did not require sleeping in a tent (something I haven’t done in probably double as long), it did involve taking a public ferry, which is considered roughing it in some circles.
This July, I’ll be breaking my no-fun streak at Chicago’s Pitchfork Music Festival. A lot has changed since 2007, specifically the advent of the outrageous festival-fashion market and all of its #Instaworthy trappings. I’m more of a type-A city slicker than a go-with-the-flow, outdoorsy queen, and my impending date with LCD Soundsystem has brought up a lot of existential style questions, particularly surrounding how I define my own personal “festival fashion” look: When are you too old for a floral crown? How much will a personal trainer charge for some crop-top abs? Is Peaches my personal style icon, or am I more Karen O? Was Jim Morrison wrong to wear leather pants in the summer? Will I finally meet A$AP Rocky? And what if we fall in love?
While making my packing list, I’ve had to come face to face with my paranoid, high-maintenance demons, a fruitful exercise that’s brought me to the conclusion that I refuse to be apologetic for my lifestyle. There comes a time in life, my friends, where comfort surpasses any cheap thrills, and no potential Rocky sighting is worth enduring unnecessary personal agony.
To that end, here’s a list of things this paranoid Old will be packing for Pitchfork.
California fashion blogger and festival veteran Aimee Song once told me in an interview that she never brings her fancy shades to festivals. It would be a real shame if your Diors fell onto the ground and got trampled during Major Lazer.
Gap sunglasses, $39.95, gapcanada.ca