Monday, 18 January 2010

Nb to self: Tricking yourself into thinking it is summer, only makes you disappointed upon exit of the house

The winter days have been here far too long, and I for one, am bored. I suspect that goes for many people, but if I have to don my Ugg boots and lather up my ridiculously chapped lips with a combination of Cymex and Burt's Bees one more time, I will happily give myself up for scientific testing, however unsavoury. At least I will be taken away from the hell that is Lancaster’s winter. I knew hibernation was a better idea... The January Sales have come, and all that is left in the shops are the dregs, the garments you pick up and understand why they are in the £5 section, and you know, you will meet again next year! I know Toppers are fiends for putting out 2005's summer collection, a selection of white which they missed the mark with, and now are turning a sour yellow with a whollop of foundation at the colour.

In a moment (well a day full) of procrastination, avoiding possibly one of the most tedious essays of my life, I began to let my mind wonder... (as you can only watch Bid down TV for so long). I wanted to relive my days of the festival. Shorts, tees and fifthly filthy socks. Any field where it is okay to put Stella on your cornflakes, eat Pringle, processed cheese and chilli ketchup sandwiches and wear whatever the hell you want, is obviously the best field to be in! I was discussing with someone that certain festivals have become a little pretentious, when he said the worse thing ever... ‘Festivals, fashions shows for the pathetic’... Woah. How very very offensive. Just as people may feel the need to get ridiculously drunk, slide in the mud, and shout obscenities every so often, some people enjoy dressing in a little bit more eccentric style, and maybe white fur coats are not the best idea for the 6 tonne of mud which has been strategically supplied by thousands of footsteps, spilt cider and heavy rain but I tell you something, they look good! If I want to GLAMP, I will. I will simply point out, who would camp when one can Glamp?

So, through my procrastination, I felt I was really re-living the festival. I felt it was day 3, and my hair had peaked. The dry shampoo and hair spray may have made a slightly odd coating on my scalp, but this is not the biggest problem I was facing. Not when the toilets are that vile, no. That the slight hangover had been repressed, and the overpriced fast food was ready to be served! It was the Saturday night, and everyone was very excited for the headliners, and shunning normality. I was in a festival mood, and wearing head scarves and the beautiful Hunter wellingtons and the air bed was primed for me to die on later on that night. The vodka and cheap lemonade served up in a plastic cup may have had bits of grass floating about, but a bit of greenery never killed anyone! Glamping in a field is a must, bring your make-up, tea-dresses and over sized sunnies. If you are going to sleep in a tent, why not do it looking good! Concealer is a must for any self-respecting girl, especially when your personal hygiene consists of a quick baby wipe. Tousled hair looks amazing, and pull on a forehead band if you need to control your fringe. I am not talking the extremes of the £12 a go glamour caravan they offer at Leeds (though I must say Gas powered straightners are tempting, though a complete indulgence), but I love how beautiful the girls look at festivals. And although I know this goes against ever feminist theory I have ever learned (and I have learned way too many), I implore girls to carry on the festival fashion even when not at festival. I just think it would make the world just a better place, I am aware the sun is never out anymore, and I am sure it has some aversion to Lancaster, maybe some kind of intolerance, but bring some sun into my life, somebody.

Clare x

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