Coming to terms with aging at a music festival
I went to Pitchfork this summer, having not been to a multi-day music festival since I was 23. This realization shocked me, since I had been basically a festival rat as a college student — SXSW, P4K, whatever random street festivals I could find, you know, the rotations of a kid trying to create a career in the music industry.
Jokes on you, young Brigid, you’re now boring and becoming a teacher.
I found myself extremely comfortable sitting back in the relative comfort of the VIP section (a lot of my friends did make it in the music industry, after all). The teens at the Blue Stage, the drunk girls wearing lacy tops, people dancing to music without a discernible beat… I have been you. I understand.
So how different is festival life in my late 20s from my early 20s?
Operating question: Will someone take my picture for a street style blog?
…yeah, just that
Operating question: Do I care if this gets dirty?
Probably a flask
Day 2 Complaints
“My back is bugging me from standing all day.”
“This is really exacerbating my running injury.”
“Did I do something to my hip last night?”
“I want to be in front.”
“Can I sit down?”
I regret nothing.