Somewhere between your star sign and your Meyers-Briggs personality type, lies the most telling archetype of all – your festival type.
The Festival Unicorn
Festivals are fun, but often they’re dusty, sticky, sweaty, sunscreen-y, glittery fun, which is why the Festival Unicorn has earned such mythical status. She is the radiant individual who, no matter the time of day or night, no matter how many drinks have been spilt on her, or how windswept her hair, always looks immaculate…as if she’s being trailed by an entourage of invisible stylists.
The Iron Man
Last spotted on the dancefloor around 4am, you’d be forgiven for thinking this guy is still sleeping off the night before in the comfort of his tent. Nope, he’s already gone for a 10-kilometre run followed by a brisk swim and is now rolling out his mat for the Sunday morning yoga class. He’s probably accumulated more Vitality points in 24 hours than you have all year.
The Party Monster
The Party Monster is the kid in the candy store; the peak-too-soon-er. He packs an entire festival’s worth of jolling into a few hours and is usually passed out under a tree when people are still arriving. If you’re wondering where his friends are, they’ve done the only thing they can do: drawn penises on his face in permanent marker and abandoned him to the elements.
The Social (Media) Butterfly
If you don’t have 18 000 photos documenting an event, were you even there? This is the logic of the iPhone-toting SM Butterfly. She introduces herself by her Instagram handle and speaks in hashtags. You’re most likely to bump into her – like, literally – as she’s glued to her screen. On the plus side, she’s also the easiest to find if you get separated at night. If the selfies on her timeline don’t offer the digital breadcrumbs you’re looking for, just look for a face perpetually bathed in the LED glow of a smartphone.
The Festival Mom
The Festival Mom is not necessarily a mom…she’s not even necessarily a woman, but someone cool, calm, collected and capable of fixing anything. The Festival Mom arrives prepared for every eventuality, from bee stings to alien invasions. S/he pre-cooks meals (like, balanced meals with vegetables and things), bring extra tent pegs because “someone always forgets theirs” and is constantly reminding you to hydrate.
He knows every band, has been coming to this (and every other) festival since it started (when it was much better, of course) and is a fountain of one-upmanship festival trivia. Being cornered by this type in the festival wild is inadvisable. Repeat the words ‘Cool story, bro’ and slowly back away…
The Solo Dancer
Taking endurance and enthusiasm to their limits is the Solo Dancer, always the first person on the dancefloor and frequently the last one remaining, bouncing with energy and determination through every set. His dance moves usually require a two-metre safety radius in every direction. No one knows him but everyone knows who he is.
We’ve all seen him. And her. Really, we’ve seen too much.
Words: Annie Brookstone
Illustrations: Lucie Demoyencourt