Why Festivals Suck (Even Though They Obviously Don't)

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The summer is a time burgeoning with festivals and their accompanying frivolities, and your facebook newsfeed is most likely cluttered with smugly chipper news bulletins from friends and family, joyously announcing their short departures to meccas of musical celebration. Still valiantly coming to grips with the amusingly misguided new hashtag feature, the average status should resemble something like this:

Just arrived at Glasto!!! #Glasto #Glast2013 #mud #yaaayyyy!! #mumford4life



These will be accompanied by a sea of photos of said festival-goers standing in fields knee-deep in mud, adorned with boho head bands/flowers/animal costumes, and grinning while doing the peace sign à la over-zealous Japanese tourist. As you survey this array of happiness and joy, it would seem that everyone is having much, much more fun than you!

The sad truth is… they probably are! Festivals generally tend to fulfil every possible requirement for funness and good times: friends, music, food, alcohol, temporarily abandoning the burdensome shackles of daily personal hygiene… these are just some of their many optimal features, all rolled into one bundle of sweaty, muddy, melodic joy.

So while you waste time wistfully dreaming of jumping in fields in some kind of ethereal hippie utopia, singing with the passion, and without the technique of Florence Welch; I have been musing upon reasons to be cheerful for your absence from festivaldom.

To begin with, although certain bizarre sections of society voluntarily put themselves through tiring physical exertion, for those of you left at home, you can stay smug in the knowledge that from the comfort of your own sofa, you can watch a lot of these musical festivities on the telly. Your adventurous comrades, on the other hand, will be traipsing round and round the festival grounds, steadily slipping into a state of near-constant drunken, dehydrated delirium, all in the name of fun. ‘Misguided fools!’, you can self-assuredly chuckle to yourself as you inspect your bunionless feet.

You also have the enviable advantage of not absolutely reeking, and being able to relieve yourself in a facility that isn’t covered in vomit and used condoms. Add to this the money that will not pour in devastating incessancy from your battered wallet, into endless vegan food vendors and pointless merchandise stands, and you’ll be saving a small fortune!

Of course all of this does not make up for the fact that you’re probably missing ‘the best weekend evaaaa!!!!’, but I really did try my best to turn it around for you.


Frances Black

Second year English and Philosophy student at Leeds Uni. I write for the Leeds Student newspaper and BounceSIN, and I'm a Leeds Student Radio presenter.I love music, gigs, reading, writing, travelling, trying to speak Spanish, and many other exciting activities.

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