Avoid these festival mistakes that cross into cultural appropriation

When I was growing up, music festivals were gloriously unpolished affairs. Fashion took a back seat to the music—think muddy boots, oversized jumpers, and a general air of dishevelment. Glastonbury was more about losing your wellies in a swamp than finding your angle for insta. Fast forward to today, and festivals have acquired an unspoken dress code: you’re expected to look effortlessly free-spirited, like you’ve transcended the 9-to-5 and are now communing with nature (and overpriced tat).

Enter Boho-chic.

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, “bohemian” style is “relaxed, informal, and unusual.” In festival terms, this often translates to dipping into other cultures for a day—an aesthetic flirtation, if you will. But these brief, often superficial encounters have a habit of sliding into murky waters, where cultural elements are stripped of meaning and repackaged as novelty accessories. Cue: the never-ending carousel of mediocre cultural appropriation.

Coachella has become something of a poster child for this phenomenon. One can barely scroll a feed without stumbling upon celebrities adorned with Native American headdresses—Vanessa Hudgens springs to mind—obliviously turning sacred symbols into boho props. And across the Atlantic, we’re not exactly innocent either. In the UK, bindis have become a go-to accessory for those aiming to add a ‘spiritual’ flair to their outfits, despite repeated calls to stop. It’s striking (and frankly, infuriating) how a South Asian woman wearing a bindi can face racism, harassment—even violence—while a festival-goer is praised for being “edgy” and “on trend.”

Just when you think the barrel's been scraped clean, along comes an Instagram reel with its own brand of oblivion. In one clip, a festival-goer shops for an outfit and picks up what she cheerfully refers to as a “rainbow skirt and corset.” Those familiar with Indian clothing might recognise it instantly as a Chaniya Choli, a traditional Gujarati ensemble, particularly prominent during the Hindu festival of Navratri. Having married into a Gujarati family, I’ve seen firsthand how much cultural and religious significance is woven—often quite literally—into these garments. The mirror work, the embroidery, the colours: none of it is accidental. To see it rebranded as a “festival fit” by someone who likely couldn’t locate Gujarat on a map is, at best, exasperating.

To make matters worse, the shop featured in the video isn’t even South Asian-owned, which raises further questions about authenticity and exploitation. It’s one thing to borrow. It’s another to profit off traditions you don’t understand while erasing the people behind them.

The conversation isn’t new, but it’s finally making its way into festival policy. Last year, Wireless Festival stated on its website that clothing or accessories amounting to cultural appropriation should be avoided. Reading and Leeds followed suit, issuing bans on garments deemed culturally insensitive. It's a start—but it also raises the eternal question: Is there a way to appreciate a culture at a festival without appropriating it?

The answer? It’s tricky. Appreciation without context often looks a lot like appropriation. But if you’re genuinely curious and committed, here are a few guidelines to curtail any potential cultural aggravation:

1. Do your research: Understanding the history and significance of what you're wearing is non-negotiable. Better yet, speak to people from the culture in question. Read, listen, learn. Google is good; conversation is better.

2. Buy authentically: What troubled me most about the clip was that the shop owner seemed entirely unaware of what she was selling. There are countless South Asian businesses in the UK—support them. Not only will you get the real deal, but you’ll also likely learn the actual names and stories behind the garments.

3. Ask yourself why: Would you wear this again? If it’s just a one-day aesthetic experiment to seem "edgy," perhaps opt for something closer to home. Western fashion is full of ways to express individuality without venturing into someone else’s sacred territory.

Festivals should be places of joy, expression, and yes—exploration. But with exploration comes responsibility. After all, true freedom of expression shouldn't come at the expense of someone else’s identity.