Apr25

Coachella: Three Strange, Wonderful Days

{Dress: Touch Boutique. Bikini Top: c/o Peixoto. Bikini Bottom: The Orchid Boutique. Headpiece: So Good. Necklace: c/o Jewels by Dunn. Shoes: c/o Marshalls. Photographed by Franky Arriola.}

One week ago today I started my musical desert adventure. Here’s a look back on those three beautiful days and everything that came along with them.

And We’re Off 

This was only my second-ever trip to California. It’s so beautiful—mountains, the desert, a sky so blue you can feel the color. After strapping on our Coachella bands, we were ready to see what this whole thing was all about. (P.S. after three days of wearing that wrist band you start to feel like an animal in the wild that’s been tagged. But cutting it off means the adventure is over, so I enjoyed it’s soggy bliss while I was trapped inside it.)

The Music

 Being at Coachella was like living inside of my Spotify playlist. My mission, as I chose to accept it, hear Chvrches. It’s what has been on constant repeat since I first heard it. And seeing them live was awesome. Or course Arcade Fire was amazing. But I was blown away by the opportunity to hear Neutral Milk Hotel live. I never in my life thought that would happen. What I didn’t understand was all the kids around me eagerly awaiting for them to finish so they could cram up to the fence to hear Lana del Rey. They said things like, “When is this going to be over?” Man, if they only knew what an oracle treat they were experiencing. Kids today. Turns out, Lana del Rey sucked. She’s lovely, but a live performer she’s not. No tears spilled over not getting tickets to her Miami show. What else I didn’t expect was how absolutely amazing Washed Out was. It was, for me, the standout moment of the whole weekend. If you aren’t a fan, become one. Trust.

Broken Bells.

 

Look, I found half of Ms Mr.

Confetti when Jay-Z came out on stage with Pharrell.

 

All hail Chvrches.

This was everything.

The sun setting on Ellie Goulding.

Neutral Milk Hotel.

Beck.

Arcade Fire shutting it down.

The People

Yes, there were weird and wonderful people at Coachella. In fact, if there was no music and it was just a people-watching festival, I might have had just as much fun. There’s a lot of flack about how Coachella is a “see and be seen” thing these days. But let me ask, what isn’t? Those who make the most of it, make it fun. And I’d rather have interesting people to look at then average Joes.

Like father, like son. 

There were you’re run-of-the-mill festival girls.

And you’re not-so-average men in capes.

And fruit-eating festival-ites.

 

And then there were these people.

And a plethora of Easter bunnies.

 

Including bears as bunnies.

But the one thing I couldn’t wrap my head around was these people. The barefoot ones. The ones who walked around with nothing between their feet and Mother Earth. Do you know what’s on the ground at a music festival of this magnitude? I can’t even go there. But they did. Lots of them. We counted 350 total in a span of three days. In the grass, in the sand, in the dirt, in the mud.

But this guy, this guy takes the cake. He didn’t want to wear his shoes. He wanted to snuggle them as he drifted off.

What I Wore

When it comes to Coachella, there are a million fun things you can wear: flower crowns, denim underwear, bathing suits paired with funky socks and combat boots. But here’s what not to wear: Open-toe shoes, long dresses, anything white, anything you love. Rest in peace white dress. It was fun while it lasted.

{Top: Blush. Shorts: Target. Hat: c/o H&M. Necklace: Express. Sunnies: Aldo. Bag: Marshalls. Shoes: Airwalks.}

{Romper: Blush. Flower Crown: Handmade by a local Coachell-ian. Sunnies: Aldo. Shoes: Airwalks.}

 Memories

Number of selfies taken at Coachella: I can’t even begin to keep track.

Awesome shot and well worth the stern talking to Franky Joe got from the guy in the backwards baseball cap shortly thereafter. 

Obligatory sitting on my man’s shoulder’s shot.

I spent no less than $60 on strawberry lemonade over the course of three days. It, combined with the people-watching and the music, was what this was all about.

Goodbye, Coachella. You’ll be missed but never forgotten.