Can you smell it?
The suncream, the dry shampoo, the incredibly distant scent of actual cleanliness?
Well no, neither can I. But I can imagine it, as this year is going to be my first [finally!] festival experience.
As much as I'm in denial about the whole mud-tent-smelliness issue, I'm in a constant state of daydreaming over the music, the friends and the fashion. I can't wait to don my floral wellies, stick on my shades and absorb all of that wonderfully hazy atmosphere.
I'm also [much to the shared interest of my camping buddies] in constant glasto-fashion mode. Prints, feathers, braids and fringes...I want it all. And none moreso than the latter. Steph's DIY post a few weeks back properly got me hooked on trying to make my own fringed t-shirts, and as soon I'm back home I'll have a week to hunt down some cheap and cheerful tops and shred them to pieces. I'm imagining it'll be the best form of stress relief I could find!
But in a parallel life, where money is endless and
you can call me Mrs Followill postage is free, I'd love nothing more than to spend my funds on all of this lovely stuff.
Part of me thinks the fringing trend should be well and truly over now. That is, before a bigger, more scary-looking part of me threatens to slap the former for being so darn cynical. Yes it's an oldie, but it's certainly a goodie and I for one am not giving up on it just yet.
In fact, I've got a sneaky feeling that my perfectly lovely, intact t-shirts will slowly be moving into fringed territory pretty soon...