On festivals: what to take, what to wear and how getting off your tits is good for your mental health
Although my parents took me to rock gigs from a young age (The Stones and Van Morrison at Knebworth) my first multi-day festival as an adult was 1989 at Glastonbury. Throughout the 80s I was the kind of urban girl that looked at the muddy pictures coming out of Glasto and thought yuck, not for me.
1989 was a revelation. We bunked in, of course. Got the train to Shepton Mallet then a farmer took us to a dark forest on his tractor for a fiver. They let us out, pointing vaguely in a direction mumbling ‘go that way’. Stumbling through the trees we came to a clearing. A large tank with wings, maybe a robot and some tattooed cowboys on top burst through the dust. Suddenly I was on location for Mad Max 2.
There was a singular bean burger stall where you could eat for a pound. We were kept awake all night by somebody playing electric guitar badly. Under the stars I raved in a field until dawn, c-beams glittering in the dark near the Tannhauser gate.
Three days later I emerged sleepless and grubby back into civilian life feeling like I’d been on another planet. From then I was hooked.
I stopped going to Glastonbury in 2010 when: the alternative night time part of the festival became lined with rule-pushing stewards in high viz jackets; a scouser nicked my wheel barrow; and you couldn’t bunk in anymore. It’s all become a bit Babylon, with the punters being either chavs and poshos.
But I’ve held faith with other festivals and my daughter has been brought up to it since the age of two. It’s funny, some parents are really weird about their kids going to festivals. But they are wrong. There are so many activities for kids. I can’t wait to take my granddaughter.
This past weekend I went to Burning Van festival which was more a large private paying party. My sister took me (yeah we are talking again). It’s her crowd. What was particularly refreshing is that most people were older, between 50 and 60. Because old age isn’t grey bubble perms and twin sets anymore (or only if it’s ironic) - it’s glitter and coloured hair and biker boots and bright clothing. The punk generation are now pensioners. We are no different. We still like the same stuff. Johnny Rotten is our Vera Lynn and we are still commemorating the acid house summer of ‘87.
What to take:
Camping when middle aged means maximising comfort. Get a nice tent, bring fold up chairs, a good stove, and really nice food and drink. I’m still sleeping on lightweight Thermarest mattresses but honestly I need to upgrade to a thicker air mattress. My hips can’t take it anymore. My sister is an expert at this sort of packing: she’ll take a proper duvet and pillow and has a black out tent.
Take fairy lights and rugs, chopping boards, plates, cutlery and actual glasses. You don’t have to suffer with freeze-dried meals. We aren’t backpacking anymore, we have cars.
The camp is everything. We made a camp around my sister’s friends and we didn’t stop laughing. Everybody pitched in with food and drinks. We had coffee flavoured tequila in our morning coffee (real not instant), various tapas, cheese boards and snacks such as smoked salmon lettuce wraps. Sunday is red wine day (nothing below £10 a bottle). Red wine helps you come down and relax from whatever drugs you’ve been taking over the previous days.
What to wear:
My sister, a font of all festival chic, says the most essential item is the ‘festie coat’. I’ve photographed a few samples of ideal festie coats. The festie coat should be long, furry and warm which means you can wear sparkly dancing wear underneath and whip it off on the dance floor. You could also opt for a Dry Robe. Although I have a full length black wool shepherds cloak from a vide-grenier in France (which actually smells of sheep) I need a festie coat. I’m on the hunt now.
There was a clothes stall with second hand clothes - I got a floor length pink sequin one shouldered mermaids dress for £15.
I also took a green headress, one that didn't get used at my daughter’s wedding. Take headgear, the more outrageous the better. You want to stand out once you slink your shoulders out of your festie coat.
Take full make up and wipes. Don’t you find often the best part of going out is the getting ready with the other girls? We all sat around the stove in our fold up chairs, slathering on the slap. The boys like to watch it too - sometimes they will join in.
By day 3 one of our male crew was wearing my green headdress and pink sequin gown.
I AM an oil painting
The highlight of the weekend for me was the back room, a DJ curated artists salon with the best tunes of the festival by Leonidas_lovetoparty and a pink velvet chaise-longue. I sat down and was advised to adopt as comfortable a position as possible as I’d have to hold it for 90 minutes. ‘Pick a light and stare at it’, ‘After 10 minutes that’s when you will start to feel the pain’ I was advised. The artists, Italian portrait painter @cristina_vercesi and National Portrait Gallery exhibitor @alex_tzavaras both worked in oils. Alex teaches portrait painting through YouTube courses.
As I sat, a man I didn’t know came up to me, mouthed the letter MDMA and gently pushed a capsule into my cheek. I let it melt gradually over the 90 minutes. As a result I was in a complete trance. According to onlookers I didn’t move a muscle the entire time. Leonidas made a mix using this gospel chorus song below and it felt like I was ascending to heaven. Another revelation was his mix of Holiday by Madonna. The next morning I woke up and announced to my sister that yes I do like Madonna’s voice. I liked her early cheesy high-pitched voice, before she pretended to be a proper singer. The sound of fun.
Having my oil portrait done, I felt like a queen, like a royal. I was so happy with the paintings. What do you think?
Afterwards
I really should take hard drugs more often. Years ago I took half an acid tab (my first time) in Cornwall and it cheered me up for three months. It opens me up. I was always scared of drugs but now I think, what the hell? A little bit of happiness is not to be sniffed at. What am I preserving myself for anyway?
Psychotropic drugs were originally designed to lift people out of depression, kick them out of their rut, expand their horizons.
I don’t think anyone under 40 should take drugs. It should be a treat, an old age bonus for getting older. When you are young you are getting sex, getting work, stuff like that. What about us oldies?
Are you going to write about your weight loss at some point?
Wow, it looks amazing and you look SO glam in that dress, I hope you managed to get it back off the fella who borrowed it.
I always double up on self-inflating sleeping mats, it's the only way I can get any rest.