It’s been a week now.
A week since I packed up my bag full of ill-chosen outfits at 4am and trudged out of Glastonbury, through discarded cider cups and air filled with potentially toxic gas emited by smouldering camp fires & burning tents. What a week it was; sweating profusely, applying Factor 50 and using 5000 baby wipes to unstick the dirt & dust whilst having the time of our lives.
I always imagined Glastonbury to be a hub of fashionistas & beautiful indie boys, unaffected by any weather condition, having packed for every possibility and looking magazine-worthy at every opportunity. Unfortunately, though the beautiful do wander the stages, the majority of festivallers do not fall into the aforementioned bracket. There were definitely some disturbing trends this year, these being the top 3:
1) ‘I’m an England Man’
Probably the most prolific of all trends at this year’s festival- the football chav. Yes, that’s right, I have never seen so many stereotypical characters grouped together in one location- not even on a family holiday to Gran Canaria in the late 90’s. I’m talking England flags, England wigs, England camping chairs, vuvuzelas, chants of ‘ROONEY’ in the early hours of the morning and casual racism. You know it’s come to something when one of the bands shouts ‘Fuck the football, we’re at a music festival.’
Another particularly chilling theme this year was the rise of the Bez-a-like. Everywhere we looked we were haunted by the man himself. Never did I think I should have held on to that Fisherman’s hat I once sported with pride, but the intensity of Bez dressing, Bez shouting and Bez’s acid house party was enough to kick Kangol back into mass-production.
3) The Underage Festival
Not the real one. But more disturbing. Young girls walking around in what can only be described as massively inappropriate outfits. Firstly, when I was 13 I was probably grounded and bringing in firewood, carrying out hard labour and feeling largely uncomfortable in my own skin. Not for these young things- apparently now it is appropriate for children to wear high waisted shorts, leaving little to the imagination. I’m not sure who to blame for this, and I think it may be jealousy, but I also saw a toddler who was wearing a better outfit than me, watching Hot Chip.
Out of principle, I did not document the above trends, I’m pretty sure logging on to the highlights will prove my point. Luckily, we did spot beautiful people every so often & manage to stealthily photograph them, in a project we penned ‘Back Hunter’.