I like to think that I’m a rational, logical person – but when it comes to packing for a festival, my brain completely melts down. I know there’s almost zero chance of great weather at a British festival. I’ve done this enough times to know that it’ll probably rain.
But there I am scouring Uniqloand ASOS browsing linen shirts that will supposedly “work” at Latitude. Why do we do this to ourselves? A few years ago I had a revelation about festival fashion.
I had been to festivals religiously for about half a decade by then and somehow never learnt my lesson. I used to pack the same way every single year.
Slightly overdressed, trying to look cute instead of considering the weather.
I ended up sodden and miserable at Kendal Calling 20 21 because I didn’t pack appropriately. I checked the weather… saw two days of sun. Pack rainbow outfit.
GO TO FESTIVAL. GET RAINED OUT. We were roaming around on Saturday morning when it decided to chuck it down.
And by chuck it down I mean turn the whole site into a WW1 filming location. I was stood there trying to look mid listening to Kasabian in my old school “festivalcore” attire; comprising of canvas trainers (ruined), cotton jeans (also ruined) and a sixty quid shirt that was now the colour of weak tea. Next to me was this guy rocking the festival dad outfit; waterproof trousers, wellies and a lovely Pertemba cap.
He was soaking wet but dancing away having the time of his life – while I stood there miserable accepting defeat. It was in that moment I realised that all my journey towards a minimalist wardrobe had taught me nothing if I continued to refuse to accept that festivals in the UK will probably suck weather-wise. This wasn’t about injecting personality or curating the right outfit – it was about having fun and surviving the Elements.
Time to pack smart. Since that day I’ve flipped my mindset when it comes to festivals. Instead of starting with how I wanted to look I began with what I needed to wear to survive.
Then tried to make that look semi-decent. Truth be told this mentality aligns so much more with my minimalist wardrobe than my previous approach. If an item can’t pack in all weathers, where’s the value in it?
The first step is accepting that you need a good pair of waterproofs. I’m not talking about “water resistant” or “pond proof” jackets here, I mean actual British waterproofs. Ones you could happily go hiking in the Scottish Highlands in.
I bought myself a Barbour Ashby after weeks of looking into it (yep, overthought buying a jacket too). They’re pricey but worth every penny and have been to 6 festivals since buying – getting better with age. Trust me, waxed cotton is like that.
The big realisation I had was that this is exactly the same mentality you should have when curating any capsule wardrobe. Take a similar approach; less is more, quality over quantity and everything needs to work together. Throw in that it all has to pack in bad weather and it actually makes picking your items easier.
If it doesn’t love getting dropped in a puddle, you don’t need it. These days my festival capsule is around eight items. Barbour jacket, two sweatshirts I actually like (one from Community Clothing that can basically fend for itself), 3 plain t-shirts I couldn’t care less about (all dark colours now too), a pair of Universal Works cargo trousers and wellies or trail running shoes.
Bam! They all mix and match, they’re all practical and nothing is so expensive that I’ll lose sleep if it goes missing. Cargo trousers used to be a big mental block for me.
They’ve such a silly stubborn association with the early 2000s and seeing my brothersolder brother stumble around in them. But the modern iterations of them from quality brands look actually pretty good. Loads of pockets for your phone, wallet, portable battery bank (life saver when you’re away from power for days on end) – and the Universal Works pair I got fit me well enough that they don’t make me look like a candypaintball player.
Footwear is where I always say assume the worst. I’ll almost always assume that every place you’ll walk at a festival is gonna be muddy and gross. Festivals are the place I bring my good trainers to ruin.
To prove my point I brought them to EOTR 2019 and spent the entire weekend stressing about ruining them instead of enjoying myself. Moral of the story: never bring your nice trainers to a festival again. If the forecast is looking good?
Salomon trail runners. If not? Get yourself a good pair of walking boots that can handle being destroyed.
Whether or not you should invest in wellies is always up for debate with my friends. On one hand they’re so useful when things do turn to mud. But they’re not very comfortable to wear all day – and let’s be honest, they aren’t the pinnacle of fashion.
My solution? Bring them and only break them out when you need them. Didn’t touch them once at GM this year because it barely rained.
Honest. Thinking about my festival wardrobe like this has made me better at curating my everyday wardrobe too. Packing for versatility and practicability at festivals has taught me to look for those qualities in every item I own.
That sweatshirt I mentioned? Low-key wore that to a client meeting last week under a blazer and nobody batted an eye. Cargo trousers are amazing for running errands around the city at the weekend.
Everything doubles up – which is what I love about having a minimalist wardrobe. Here’s where you can have some fun. Thankfully there are loads of brands out there making festival-worthy accessories that don’t sacrifice practicality.
Love my bucket hat from Folk. Not only does it look cute but it actually protects your head from rain. Fjällräven constantly have backpacks and cross-body bags that are roomy enough to hold all your essentials but don’t make you look like you’re going camping.
And a cheap pair of sunglasses from Primark. Trust me, you’re spending enough on everything else – DON’T SUCK AT LEAST WHEN IT COMES TO SUNGLASSES. Speaking from experience here; spent £200 on a pair of Ray-Bans I still can’t find months after Latitude.
People often ask me if I don’t miss dressing up for festivals. If I don’t enjoy seeing everyone’s cute outfits. To be honest not really.
I love that no matter what the weather is like I know I’m prepared. Instead of spending my weekend stressing about my clothes I can actually sit back, relax and focus on what I went to a festival for in the first place. Taking in the music, the atmosphere and spending time with friends without anyone getting trench foot.
Hell I probably look better now than I did trying to pretend I belonged at a festival. Confidence is the best outfit after all. And when was the last time you saw someone rock a pair of wellies?
Once I stopped trying to blend into festival scene I started to enjoy it. I looked around at Wilderness last year and actually felt comfortable. Like my girlfriend said when we were leaving; “dodged a bullet with the rain this year”.
She wasn’t refering to me dodging rain. Me. I realised then that I had spent the last few festivals stressing about my outfit not being festival enough that I forgot to actually enjoy myself.
You do have to be lucky enough to be able to afford to buy good quality stuff that’ll last. But the core of what I’m saying applies to anyone regardless of budget. Buy items that can get dirty.
Prioritise function over style. And please please PLEASE pack for the weather you’re likely to get; not the weather you hope to get.
For anyone wanting to take this on, I would start small.
Pick a single festival and use it as your testing grounds. Don’t try and change everything all at once (tip top minimalist style; take small, intentional steps rather than big dramatic changes) grab a load of old clothes you don’t mind ruining, assume it’s going to rain and try it out. Learn what works and what doesn’t for you.
Build from there. Same logic I took with packing spare socks. Always pack spare socks in a waterproof bag.
You never know when you’ll need that back up t-shirt because your first one became a soggy mess. Life lessons we learn at festivals. It’s the same as writing good code.
Prepare for everything to break and you’ll never be disappointed. Case and point – festivals are where clothing go to die.
