Glastonbury festival 2015.

Well, what do you know, my resolution to use disposable cameras more this year has resulted in this one getting developed - baby steps. Normally a bit of a mish mash, this disposable camera photos post has a bit of a theme and, in case you hadn't noticed, it's what Lionel Richie calls "GLASTONBERRY" (sic).

From the "lasstonbury" whatsapp group to the £20 Argos tent (IT SURVIVED), you could say our preparation was somewhat minimal. Turning up to Greenwich coach park to see others with six bags of camping gear rather than our own six bags of cereal bars and cloudy lemonade was a half "maybe we should've planned this" half "we just don't want to carry much/we're going back to basics/we've totally got this" moment, but it didn't half make the journey back easier. Fast forward a few hours (wish I could've), we were wristbanded and pitching camp in one of the quieter areas before heading into the arena to explore a little. I know people say this every time and I scoffed right back at them every time (feel free to reply "...nah", I understand), but Glastonbury festival is huge. That first evening was spent entirely trying to work out where the hell Avalon was, and we were still discovering new areas right up until Sunday.

I won't bore you with a play-by-play rendition of every act I saw (that's for the NME to make up), but let's just say Patti Smith is queen, the Who are top blokes, Josh Modestep has my heart, La Roux is the Ziggy to my Stardust, Kanye's a bit of a knob, and Lionel Richie is really, really smiley. Heading back to the land of liquid soap was equal parts hallelujah and take me back, because no matter how many times you can use your hot cloth cleanser there's nothing quite like standing in the middle of an english field with thousands of other people raising a toast for the scumbags.

Of course, the million dollar question: would I go again? It wasn't all 23° and perfect conditions 24/7 making for some miserable poncho moments, but given the opportunity, how could I not? When you're sat on top of the world in the Park, there's really nothing more magical.

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I say, I'm sorry I won't do that happily.

Denim shirt: gift from Jazmine. Asos petite jeans: £28. French Connection bag: gift. Hunter boots: won in Char's giveaway. Rimmel lipstick.

As promised, here's day two of my Parklife shenanigans.

Sunday was much more chilled than the day before, namely due to the mainly sunny weather, and we rolled up to the festival site around 1, after having a good ol' fry up to keep us going. As we had to leave around 7 to head back to Manchester city centre, we missed Foals and Disclosure (I may have shed a figurative tear, I'll get another opportunity I'm sure), but were serenaded by London Grammar's kick ass lungs and man of the moment Sam Smith. No burger news to report this time, as I got a pasty from the station on the way home (keepin' things real), so I'll cut things short as I seemed to go on a bit about day one, and I've got post-festival blues.

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I can feel the love, can you feel it too.

Urban Outfitters stripy top: £22. American Apparel sunflower shorts: £54 (watermelon ones here). Primark wax jacket: £22. French Connection bag: gift. Hunter boots: won in Char's giveaway.

It hardly feels like it (talk about a whirlwind), but just a week ago I was stood in a rather muddy field in Manchester singing myself hoarse at Sam Smith. The lovely people at Yahoo Lifestyle invited me up to sample the northern soul and snap some street style photos (that bit's coming soon!). Seeing as I took a load of photos, I thought it'd make sense to separate them into two posts, so here's day one for your delectation.

I haven't been to Manchester since last November, but it certainly fulfilled my expectations: it rained. A lot. The Saturday was a bit of a washout, and I still feel like I've got a little bit of mud on me somewhere, but the music more than made up for the constant cold, particularly when the sun reared its head towards the end of the afternoon! We tended to stage hop to see what was going on, but highlights included Camo and Krooked, Duke Dumont, and, of course, Rudimental, who I've been wanting to see for ages, and they do manage to make you feel good despite the inevitable onset of a cold making itself very present. I also spied an Almost Famous stand, which I insisted we try out having heard the hype surrounding their Liverpool opening, and boy was I glad we did. I had the special Parklife burger which included all things chorizo, while Sabby favoured the Famous, and I can really see why they've earned their reputation (and it gives me an excuse to talk about food).

Day two will be coming up on Wednesday, but for now I plan to curl up in a very small ball and pray this hangover goes on its merry sadistic way.

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Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear.

Navy blouse: 50p, charity shop. Waxed jacket: £22, Primark. Shorts: Fat Face (old). Sunglasses: £2, Primark. Socks: £2, asos. Hunter boots: won in Char's giveaway. Bag: gift from Jazmine.

As I'm sure you've read on Olivia and Jazmine's blogs, last week we all headed South to catch the ferry to the Isle of Wight Festival. After a (very) last minute email from the ladies at Hunter, I found myself organising transport for the next day, and chucking as many baby wipes into a rucksack as I could find. I do like a good few days sat festering in the middle of a field (it's a lot more fun than it sounds), so it's hardly surprising that I took up the offer, and I am so glad I did. Spending the weekend with my favourite blogging pals (Lyzi included!) and my parisian friend Sabby aside, I finally got to see Blondie after several plays of Parallel Lines, as well as Rizzle Kicks, Stone Roses, Sub Focus, Modestep, Paloma Faith, and a band who I think are called Bon Jovi? For me, festivals aren't about making yourself look good, which is handy after attempting to draw catflicks in a tent. Instead, I found myself relying on a couple of disposable cameras and borrowing Jazmine's (thank you!) to get a few shots of my outfit on day three. A few of our fellow festival-goers seemed bemused at the whole concept of taking outfit photos, but I've just got my disposables developed, so I'm sure they'll find their way into a future post! I may not be heading to Glasto (sob), but I hope you lucky folks who are have the best time, and have a year's supply of toilet rolls with you.

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In the corner of an english field.

 

As I pluck the last strand of straw out of my hair, now seems the perfect time to start reminiscing about the past weekend. I know that music festivals aren't everyone's cup of tea; the idea of spending multiple days stranded in a lumpy field, your phone battery slowly giving up the ghost and surrounded by people arguing as to whether someone is in the tent without checking at 4am isn't particularly appealing, but the faithful british institution finds itself beckoning punters back year after year, with over 250 individual festivals taking place annually. The Glastonbury institution may have taken a well-deserved rest while London 2012 used its portaloos, but I headed back to Brownstock festival for the third year in a row, to see what exactly was going down in Brown town...

 

Arriving a little later than my friends due to the event coinciding with the last day of my internship, I found my tent pegged in place (thanks Amy!), guitar being passed round, and generally an environment as far removed from the Tottenham Court Road office I'd left three hours previously as possible. As twilight encroached, we headed into the arena for dodgems and fairground rides, followed by a trip to the silent disco (well documented by my camera, but never will these be published online, for the greater good!). The two main days of the festival were spent between the Piano DJ tent - sets by Devon Mayson, Calico Ghost Town and the opportunity to sing Wonderwall incredibly out of tune - the Noise Kitten Treehouse for friends' DJ sets, the Good Shed for Grand Master Flash, Zane Lowe and Nero, and the Main Stage for Labrinth, the Futureheads, the Milk, et al. The music, without doubt, is the basis of a festival, but it's the DJ playing Jay-Z and Kanye that persuades you to stay at the silent disco, heading to the aptly named Stumble Inn for dubstep when everything else has closed, or, if all else fails, huddling round a piano for a singsong in your pyjamas when you decide you're not ready for bed quite yet that makes it slightly different to sitting in your back garden with the subwoofer pumping out album tracks.

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an overgrown house party.

last photo by ashlea hugh

i attended brownstock festival for the second year in a row (see my post about last year's here). of course i managed to successfully avoid any of the professional photographers, yet i managed to go through a total of two and a half disposable cameras, as well as most of the film on my lomo fisheye (yet to be developed, the suspense/fear lies palpably inside my bag).
i don't know whether it's the board games, pianoke (there was a rather impressive rendition of parklife), or the mindset of the local rugby club to dress up (i saw mankinis, a french maid, and some nuns), but i just love brownstock. it's small, especially when compared to the only other nearby festival v, but that just adds to the charm. and lessens the queue for the mediterranean wraps. so good, i can't even.

and somehow we adopted/inherited/won a pink unicorn, christened dave.

xxx

ps, i've been featured by florrie on british style bloggers. click through if you fancy a little read about paying to wash your clothes and how film photography is fab.

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summer sun says get out more

liverpool sound city was, yet again, about two months ago, yet i only got round to taking off the wristband last night (that's nothing compared to the brownstock one, that happened last september). my review of it will be published in ellipsis (the university of liverpool magazine), so i shan't post the review here, but instead you can have some of the shots i took on my disposable camera.

ed sheeran at bumper, hardman street

miles kane at st george's hall (see if you notice this on the cover for his single "inhaler"!)

black lips at masque. i got the set list. love.

see you in birmingham!

xxx

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demimonde

beardyman and a beach ball

i still have my wristband on (:

these photos are from brownstock festival that i attended last weekend.

still suffering from what has been dubbed "festival flu", so i reckon that marks it as a pretty good event. i'd recommend it to anyone who fancies a weekend of good music for £50.

see you there next year?

and here's a video of beardyman, he's insanely talented

(and i was awake during his entire set, shut up)

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