Shorts: H&M, Zip-up Hoodie: H&M (Boys), Blue T-shirt: Gap, Superhero tops adapted from old t-shirts,
Spotty Dress: Uniqlo, Converse, Old Wellies, Socks: a gift, Bag: White Stuff, Sunglasses: H&M,
plus festival wristband and lanyard with map/programme
The title to this post is a roughly remembered half-quote from a blogpost I read while frantically scouring the web for a Glasto packing list aimed at girls that
didn't assume I thought I'd be showering/actually washing my hair/generally trying to be like the normal version of myself. I'm pretty sure that fashion doesn't
die at Glasto, it's just a version of fashion that only exists in situations where you can't be high-maintenance. The term 'festival chic', with all the crochet and the faux-hippy and the fringes isn't very me, and since the sun decided to come out every day there wasn't a raincoats-and-wellies kind of dreariness to the sartorial proceeding, I can safely say that fashion didn't die, and I was
far from the best dressed (how did people manage to wear dresses that would crumple as soon as they saw a suitcase? just how?!) There's an outfit missing from this round up, because the couple of photos of me from that day didn't come out (disposable camera problems), but it's pretty indicative of how I felt -all smiley and summery and a million miles from the rest of the world, helped by my going almost completely off-the-grid.
Clockwise from top-left - Wednesday, in front of the Other Stage; Sunday, in the Greenpeace area; Saturday, somewhere in Silver Hayes; Thursday, in the Flag Field
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