Coachella confuses me.
I can't decide whether I hate it or love it or don't care about it.
I didn't even want to write about it, in fact,
as even the act of writing about not wanting to write about it is cliche -
I've never been one for prudent silence.
Every time a new ridiculously dressed individual pops up onto my "feed", I immediately suffer an overwhelming slew of emotions.
As someone who grew up worshipping music, it saddens me a little that most attendees spend more of their time picking jean wedgies than pounding out lyrics.
But I'd be a broken record to malent the absence of the "music" portion of the festival.
Even if I just did.
And I'm guessing (knowing) that a large portion of the apparent priority skew is due to the select individuals I choose to follow via my various social media streams.
And you know what else I'm guessing?
That I'd act just like them.
I've always been a sucker for team spirit.
Despite my total ineptitude at all things athletic, I always got a kick out of game days and their respective forms of outfit collaboration.
Ribbon-in-hair day, red knee-high sock day, face paint day,
nothing made me feel safer than that sense of camaraderie that the outfit collaboration instilled.
The unifying factor itself wasn't as important as..well, it's "unifying" quality.
What's especially interesting in the case of Coachella, though, is that it seems like the large portion of attendees are individuals who consider themselves...unique. Trendsetters. Social outliers. Independents.
|jacket: thrifted (cool one & here), shirt: Gap (sim), pants: Jbrand, boots: Etienne Aigner, earrings: UO,|
rings: etsy (fabulousrocks) & thx to The 2 Bandits
And yet they're coming together from across the globe to act as one - to suspend the same tenants of reality and, just for a while, make believe that body consciousness, social norms and inappropriate hemlines don't exist.
To embrace the same aesthetic, even if they've staked their whole self-identity on developing their own.
I guess it just proves that even us proud weirdos can crave companionship.
Photos by Matt Engelhart
PS: I know it goes without saying, but thoughts are with Boston. hang in there