I first started to notice it on the Overground. As I made my way towards Victoria Park for the first night of All Points East on Friday, I began to feel more and more self-conscious. With each stop closer to Hackney, every other person who stepped on the train seemed to resemble some kind of glowing Amazonian goddess on the way to a secret London fashion week pre-party, or a mass open-call supermodel audition.
I looked down at my own outfit which, until I arrived in E9, I had thought was pretty de rigeur, and even verging on over-dressed. Now, my knee-high black boots seemed positively primordial, and bland enough to bore at a funeral.
By the time my friend arrived, I was flustered. She too was looking slightly sad. “Is it just me, or is everyone here –”, I began. “So hot?” she finished. “I know.” It was a sentiment reiterated throughout the night, amongst other equally perplexed friends.
But, we consoled ourselves by telling each other, how were we to know? Festivals were not ever thus. In fact at one point, the festival aesthetic was almost crassly anti-fashion. In the Nineties, the grunge movement — heavily influenced by indie like Nirvana — defined festival fashion, with its laid-back, anti-fashion and utilitarian flannel shirts, ripped jeans and combat boots. It was practical, and a mirror of the reality of the sometimes gritty atmosphere of festivals like Glastonbury.
And then came those pictures of Sienna Miller at Glastonbury in 2004. Wearing a black distressed mini dress, studded belt, neon-framed sunglasses, and a pair of rolled down Ugg boots, Miller became the talk of the whole world. A year later, Kate Moss was snapped at Worthy Farm in a pair of hot pants, a shimmering Lurex dress, and Wellington boots. Suddenly, festival fashion became a category in and of itself.
But looking back at these pictures now, with the benefit of 20 years of hindsight, Miller’s and Moss’s outfits wouldn’t so much as turn a head at even the most pedestrian London day festival in 2024. So, what has happened? TikTok, as usual, is perhaps the most obvious culprit.
The app has spawned a whole new subsection of style gatekeepers. TikTok fashion influencers may not have the traditional tokens of power, but the platform’s unique and hyper-specific algorithm has allowed micro-trends to grow, evolve and die out at an unprecedentedly rapid pace. “Night luxe,” “coastal grandmother”, “cottage-core” and “clean girl,” are just a few of the month-long aesthetics born on TikTok, each with a highly specific set of principles, imagery and even body types.
The evolution of festival fashion has been influenced by a changing of the headliner guard
The platform’s ascendency has also coincided with the arrival of ultra-fast fashion, heralded by companies like Shein, which categorises its website based on these vibe-led trends. TikTok shop even allows viewers to instantly buy clothes directly from creators on the platform. Sartorial expertise has been democratised, fed to us in digestible, 30-second videos. Suddenly, everyone is Miranda Priestly with a tiny microphone and slick-back bun.
However, to quote another TikTok trend, this current fashion era did not fall out of a coconut tree. Coachella, which, as a Gen Z-er, was my first concept of festival fashion, was certainly defined by social media — specifically Instagram influencers and Instagram-savvy celebrities. The festival and the social media platform were in a symbiotic relationship for years during the mid-2010s, skyrocketing in popularity.
But, despite Instagram’s cultural dominance, the trends were still being driven from the top down — we wanted to dress like the Kardashian-Jenners. But now, thanks to TikTok influencers, they want to dress like us.
There is also no doubt that the evolution of festival fashion has been influenced by a changing of the headliner guard. Glastonbury, All Points East, even rap and hip-hop festival Wireless — all in the earliest days were dominated by male-led, usually all-white, bands.
As festivals have gradually diversified their line-ups, they have undoubtedly attracted new fans, and new vibes — Friday’s All Points East was headlined by afro-soul singer Tems, US R&B star Victoria Monét and Haitian-Canadian DJ Kaytranada.
To be clear, none of this is necessarily bad. Obviously, fast fashion and micro-trend-driven overconsumption are not to be encouraged. But fashion is art, and good art is satisfying. Generally speaking, you can dress well without polluting the planet and rotting your brain by spending hours on TikTok. I just wish I had got the memo on Friday.
