Coachella Envy

Every year as the music-festival-slash-streetstyle-fest called Coachella takes place, I morph into a little green-eyed monster of envy. I know that being taken over by jealousy is SO against my zen life path, but I can't stand it that I can't afford to go to Coachella.

I can't stand it that bloggers that I don't like get invited there for free. I can't stand seeing reality TV stars that I know have backstage tickets and get to take smiling pictures sitting on the grass wearing sunglasses while I'm freezing my butt off at the 159 bus stop. I can't stand it that people that wear Ramones t-shirts without knowing who the Ramones are get to go backstage and meet bands. I can't stand it that some people get to become one with the stylish crowd and jump to the sounds of Blur, Moby, Franz Ferdinand, Wu-Tang Clan and Palma Violets (I LOVE Palma Violets!!) while I have to stand sandwiched between sweaty coats on the tube. I can't stand the fact that beautiful, privileged people get to walk back to their hotels at sunrise wearing denim shorts (because let's face it, when else are you ever going to wear denim shorts?) while I wake up to dirty dishes from yesterday's pig-out in front of a Judd Apatow film. I can't stand the fact that they will have those memories forever and I won't, just because I didn't have the money to make them happen for me.

I know this makes me sound petty and jealous, but in a way I'm proud of being honest enough to admit my envy. That's right, I say these things BECAUSE I'M JEALOUS. Insanely so. I too want to party with Leigh Lezark, Alexa Chung and Harley Newton-Vieira! I too want to take my picture taken in a floral sundress and ankle boots. I too want to Instagram myself standing in front of the Ferris wheel. I too want to look back at pictures of me in a tank top and messy hair and smile. I too want to tell my grandchildren (if I ever have any) about that time that I managed to sneak in backstage. I consider it a huge tragedy that I'll reach the grand old age of thirty having missed out on the true festival experience.

But, you know, I never intend to grow up, so it's never too late.

Style-wise, I prefer Festival Week to Fashion Week! Here are my favourites this year:

Diane Kruger

Screw it, here's my big resolution: NEXT YEAR I WILL GO. 

I don't know how, I don't know where I'll get the cash. I just got the idea now, while writing this post, to make a promise to myself. I'm going.

And here's what I'll wear:

Dress, H&M

Sandals, River Island at ASOS

Bag, Compassion Couture

Necklace, Zara

Sunglasses, Topshop

Bracelet, Accessorize

Belt, Mango


Photos from Vogue.co.uk, Refinery29 and Harper's Bazaar.


  1. I totally get you! I envy all them bad writing bloggers getting invitations for every store opening / fashion show / EVERYTHING and I can't even afford a new dress. But I guess that's one thing richer people will never learn - to make the most fabulous out of nothing. Sounds desperate, but keeps me being proud of being me ;)

  2. I'd love to go one year too, but at least you have Glastonbury!! What about that festival? :)

    1. No less amazing and unfortunately, no less expensive. You're right, there are no plane tickets involved. But my budget is very, very limited. If there's some brand out there that wants to invite a blogger to a festival, look no further! *wink wink*


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