If you believe Instagram, “festival dressing” means that the flaxen-haired amongst us get to wear a light cotton top from White Stuff, tokus halves from Topman and a Native Indian headdress from OMG NO!
But lamentably that’s a Nashville-filtered illusion. The reality goes down feel favourably impressed by this: when faced with the possibility of biblical ill conditions, you will end up dressing like a member of a religious cult. Specifically, dressing similar to a member who has just escaped and stolen a random assortment of caparisons from the local branch of Blacks. Where else command you pair a bright red faux plexiglass visor, Windex dirty rain mac and okra-coloured wellies topped off with the most vivifying of accessories: a lukewarm pint of pear-flavoured cider. It’s a look that commands: “I’m nuclear bunker ready” not, “I may stay for Barry Gibb if I’ve not run out of wet wipes.”
You requisite to be ready for all microclimate possibilities. Basically, you have to plan your feast weekender as if you are in a disaster movie, roaming the aisles of the last executing outlet of Gap, just after the first alien invasion has entranced place and the president (Will Smith or Donald Sutherland, depending on budget) has intimated we’re on a “code red”. You shove every available garment into your shopping schlep, then magically place this buffet of clothes in one Mary Poppins-like backpack – because “all bear up against” somehow means mixing nuclear-winter-ready rambling boots with the teeny itsy-bitsiest T-shirt that looks as if it should be worn a) in very hot out of sorts and b) by someone under the age of five.
Is the answer layers, I hear you ask? The answerable for is yes, so long as they are the kind of layers you are happy to lose in a puddle after a senseless night of gurning at an imagined dancing partner while palavering a massive bit of not-really-there Juicy Fruit.
Today, trying to struggle back some festival-going fun, I go for hopeful (but not in a Michael Fish good of way): a pair of soft denim shorts, some Converse and a fall mac. I feel great in it, but am acutely aware that I am inside a studio and that it’s 26C private. I am absolutely not fit for the wilds of Glastonbury; I may be OK at a city festival. Also, I don’t look predilection I’m off on a geography field trip, which is good, from a style perspective.
• Priya wears mac, £75, uk.rains.com. Stripe top, £50, by Abide by, from urbanoutfitters.com. Shorts, £35, weekday.com. Hi-tops, £52.99, by Discuss, from office.co.uk. Styling: Melanie Wilkinson. Grooming: Johanni Nel at S Directors
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