Festival Frolics’ highs and lows from Glasto '09…

Posted by Gill Sutherland at 09:49 on 30 Jun 2009

• Print
• Share
• Comment

Michael Jackson dies Thursday night
It is peeing down, lightning flecks the sky, thunder rumbles. Festival Frolics is having flashbacks about 'Glasto: The swamp years'… then we hear the rumours. As FF lurks in the press tent for shelter, everyone is yapping loudly about the King of Pop and whether it could possibly be true... FF has heard these type of excitable made-up rumours at festivals before (Paul McCartney must have popped his clogs at least five times), so we are all the more stunned when, by 11pm, it is confirmed: Jacko is dead. The bleak conditions seem fitting. Everyone goes off tent-wards for an early-ish night, (Except model Alice Dellal, who apparently gets so lashed she troops off back to London before any of the proper fun begins. Good grief, girlfriend.)

Mud roulette
Come Friday morning there’s a five-inch layer of boggy mud soup everywhere, turning the ground into a mad, slurpy slipfest. Festival Frolics is waddling around like a worried granny who’s lost her Zimmer. You witness other hapless saps slipping bumwards into the goo, and realise grimly that it will be your turn soon.

Sleb-spotting
Ah, one of Festival Frolics fave backstage pastimes: grab a pint o’cider, find a comfy spot and commence gawping. Our weirder celeb spots included: Andrew Marr, BBC politics chap and thinking women’s crumpet (if you squint), tubby astrologist of yesteryear Russell Grant and stud-muffin actor Dominic West, aka Jimmy McNulty from The Wire. Then of course there were the usual suspects (deep breath): Alexa Chung, Mr and Mrs Kate Moss, Daisy Lowe, Rhys Ifans, the Geldof Gals and Kelly O.

The new rain-inspired must-have festival fash accessory is…
Wait for it…. Remember where you heard it first…. (drum roll, please) Swim hats. Groovy, eh? Whaddyamean no! Look, we’re not talking latex head-squeezers that squish your features down your face, giving you that comedic, skinhead Neanderthal look. Oh non. These are splendid vintage affairs, festooned with rubberised petals and/or sparkly bits: think debutante flapper from the 1930s, and work it, girlfriend. (Visit www.saratogafinelingerie.com for a fine selection of retro swim hats.

Gaga for GaGa
Lady GaGa was on fire. Festival Frolics is not being metaphorical, she quite literally really was ON FIRE in the breast area. Boob and bum flashing, costume changes, and blistering songs are quite enough for the NY minx. Concealed within her metal bra is some kind of explosive, flame-throwing device, which sparks into life during her Friday night finale. Hey Madonna, put that in your conical bra and, erm, smoke it.

Halloumi cones
Nope, not a strange new indie band, but Festival Frolics fave new Glasto grub: deep fried halloumi cheese, nestled ontop a minty Mediterranean salad, all residing in a conical flatbread, with your choice of sweet chilli sauce or aioli vegan mayo, all for a fiver. Yummage.

Time warps
Old-school boy band East 17 are rockin’ the woods, Blur are kickin’ it like it’s the mid-90s Britpop heyday, day-glo spandex rave gear is fashionable… We know it’s traditional to be a bit befuddled at Glasto, but seriously, Festival Frolics seems to have lost ten years in a muddy puddle somewhere…

Welly leg
Yup, Festival Frolics has invented a new rash-like medical condition. It happens when tight wellies (hell, they looked sharp when FF bought them) are worn in the hot hot heat of a long weekend (the Friday mud-fear meant we left our flip-flops at home).

Jacko tributes
Much respect was paid to the legendary popstar: The Streets rocked a discotastic Billie Jean, while Dizzee Rascal drove the main stage crowd bonkers with a medley of Jackson hits, the Noisettes Shingai Shoniwa did a splendid cover of weepy Ben,  and t-shirt vendors were doing a swift trade in Jacko RIP tees at £10 a go.

• Next entry
• Previous entry