What I Wore to Coachella
Just kidding, I'd rather go to space with Katy Perry
Coachella wrapped this weekend, and you know what that means:
I am sitting at my home in the midwest, wearing a fringe-free scuba sweatshirt procured at Dick’s Sporting Goods, experiencing zero FOMO.
Even if I could muster up the ‘chella energy, I’d have nothing to wear. My full-coverage bikini tops lay nestled in my “summer” bin where they belong (I can’t wear a one-piece, they are just too cold when wet AND hard to pee in!). The last time I donned anything mesh, it was a giant pair of postpartum hospital undies packed with a pad thicker than Cardi B’s BBL. I haven’t carefully slid my legs into pantyhose since 2002, and certainly not with nothing but ass-less shapewear over them… but it looks good on you, Julia!
I haven’t attended a Big Music Festival since Lollapalooza.
In 2010, I found a little berm waaaay in the back to watch meat dress era Gaga belt out “Poker Face”. The next year, I saw the Foo Fighters in the rain, standing in an ankle deep puddle of god knows what. Both times, I left exhausted, dirty, dehydrated, anxious about the journey back to my friend’s Bucktown condo.
I walked to the L station, feet squishing in the toxic waste soaked up by my Tom’s, thinking to myself, I know that was supposed to be fun… but was it? I wondered what I was missing. It seemed like everything I’d read online about how transcendent and incredible these music festivals are didn’t quite match my experience.
But in 2014, I went to Lolla again, and this time with a press pass. And then I got it.
This meant clean bathrooms (not Biffs, but the fancy trailer ones), gigantic coolers stuffed with free Fiji waters, air conditioned lounges with comped wine, cocktails, snacks, and comfy places to sit. It meant getting to see headliners from elevated areas that don’t require standing in ankle-deep human waste. You can even leave your perfect spot to pee, and when you come back, boop! Waive your little wrist band and security will usher you right back.
Here’s the truth about Coachella (and every other major music festival): It’s only great if you get the VIP experience.
You know, if you fl there on a private plan, get dropped off at some back entrance by a chauffeured Escalade, enter backstage without a line/full cavity search, and can either stay in a fancy RV or an overpriced Indio AirBnB with an inflatable flamingo floating in the swimming pool.
The regular folks who paid $600 for a weekend pass, baked in traffic for 12 hours without access to restrooms… just to get into the (probably filthy) campgrounds… then spent hundreds of dollars a day on strawberry lemonade boba and bang bang noodles while huffing polluted dust all weekend? They cannot possibly be loving Coachella.
What they are loving is telling everyone about it.
Today, Coachella feels 10 percent music festival and 90 percent marketing circus. It’s where rockstars debut songs from their forthcoming albums, movie stars soft launch relationships invented by their publicists. A-list celebs ‘have to’ go to keep their footing in the cultural zeitgeist; D-listers attend, clinging to relevancy. And they’re all trying so, so hard to dress for TMZ, winning or losing the weirdest fashion contest outside of the MET Gala. All press is good press.
Asfor the regular folks, it’s about social clout, creating content for everyone who couldn’t make it, building their own personal brands. I wonder how many people literally consider their Coachella experience a tax write-off?
Coachella seems to be about everything but the music. It’s stupidly expensive— premium prices for privilege of getting the human livestock treatment. And nothing seems easy: eating, peeing, sleeping (lol who goes to a music festival to sleep!). I know the saying: Nothing worth having comes easy. Woodstock wasn’t easy. But it was The First, and The Only. It was a cultural moment, not an annual event with selfie moments and hashtags.
As I re-read this, it has occurred to me that there may be one other way to enjoy a big music festival: And that is to be 22, not 42, years old.
Like cramped dorm rooms, drunken spring breaks at crappy hotels sleeping six to a room, or Europeans hostel-shopping, there are some things I’m simply too old to enjoy.
And I am okay with that.
Are you a music festival person? What’s the best (or worst!) one you’ve attended?
I like the idea of a music festival, but actually paying money to stand or sit on the ground to watch a concert from far away, pay a ridiculous amount of money for food and drinks (because of course you're not allowed to bring your own), and then have to camp overnight sounds miserable. But I am also 40 and, like you said, lots of things that used to be fun are not anymore. And that's okay! 😄
I barely see theater anymore because the experience is miserable even though it’s indoors with assigned seats!