Monday, 16 July 2012

A true festival foe

It's that time of the year when hundreds of thousands of British people start counting down for festival season. Indeed the time is nigh, and the muddy fields are within sight.

Festivals are a huge deal to so many people, and for reasons far beyond what festivals used to represent. Festivals were once soley just an appreciation of music, attended by music lovers and for music lovers. But nowadays, mass marketing and dollar signs in the eyes of the producers have turned them into mass events which extend far further than the fields they take place in.

I honestly believe that the vast majority who go to festivals such as Reading or Glastonbury spend an equal amount of time on their festival outfits nowadays as they do scoping out what bands are playing on what stages. Of course this isn't a bad thing - because I've always been brought up to look my best for different occasions, but I think it's just peculiar how a whole fashion trend has emerged with these events. Being the hardy Englishmen and women that we are, we can brave the cold, wet, windy weather wearing bottom-scraping cut-off denim shorts teamed with a staple pair of Hunters. Because that's just what we do.

Well... I say we, but I personally don't actually like or attend festivals. The way I see it, they are an event version of Marmite; you either love them or loathe them. Okay so I wouldn't say I loathe them as such, it's just more that I can't deal with the almost guaranteed rain and thus muddy fields, sleeping in a tent and the inability to stay clean. I'd be more than happy to spend a weekend at a festival like Coachella where you can watch bands play wrapped in the warmth of Californian sun, but the cold and grimey associations of English festivals just don't do it for me.

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