Last week, the chilly isles of LA’s hottest celebrity and influencer hangout – namely the Erewhon supermarket – were apocalyptically empty. Only people who are still eating gluten were seen on the streets of LA.

After a two-year pandemic-induced hiatus, Coachella, the Cali-based music festival attracting a whopping 250 000 fans, made its much-anticipated return.

Now to me, festivals are equally about the music as they are about the fashion. The words ‘’Glastonbury, Kate Moss, Wellington boots’’ paint an instant picture, don’t they? Festival outfits of both the performers and the spectators dictate retail trends for seasons to follow. Suddenly, we warm up towards crochet again, and the word ‘’boho’’ is loosely thrown around in every marketing team brainstorming sesh.

This year, however, we witnessed a ‘sponsored post’; ‘swipe up to shop my outfit’ and ‘all the brands are tagged on my main feed hun’ frenzy like never before.

From a financial point of view, this was to be expected. The fashion industry is still recovering from the global disruptions it faced during 2020, and retailers are looking to make up for the revenue losses that followed suit. Enter an excellent exposure platform like Coachella.

Fast fashion brands jumped on the opportunity to sponsor the festival and advertised to its starved attendees and the rest of us who watched it on social media. It was a wise move. I spent a good chunk of my weekend giving myself an unflattering double chin from all the lazy scrolling through the Coachella content.

It all made perfect business sense. Sadly, what it didn’t make for was a forum for creativity and self-expression.

My interest somewhat plummeted when I saw the many beige bodycon dresses, the high street dupes to THE Miu Miu skirt, and the many influencers’ looks lazily churned out on the ‘’dressed top to toe by *insert a fast fashion brand of your choice’’ basis.

But then Harry Styles appeared in a custom-made sequin Gucci jumpsuit, he dazzled us mere mortals like a modern-day Mick Jagger, and I was hooked again. The planet was healing; the yin got its yang back. The many outfits in the shade that now goes under the name ‘’Valentino Pink’’ were a solid highlight; so was seeing what the cool Euphoria kids were up to.

But to quote a famous-albeit-fictional fellow columnist, I could not help but wonder: does festival dressing for the sole purpose of a cute Instagram reel lend itself to a sustainable take on fashion? Especially when quantified by a large number of attendees? When most of the polyester outfits worn this year will most likely face the destiny of an ugly Christmas sweater?

The Business of Fashion reported an increase of 173% for festival fashion item sales across the key fast fashion sites. So, the answer to my hypothetical question is a sad, solid, and data-backed no.

Perhaps Coachella is past its peak as a source of sartorial inspo, with 2019 as its culmen year. Let’s see what 2023 has to offer. As long as Zendaya and Harry Styles are there, count me in.