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Each summer, Lollapalooza morphs Chicago into a festival fashion mecca. Mecca is a strong word. More like a ‘place of interest’. Unlike the famous and perhaps more beautiful fests, Lolla’s always been content with doing its own thing. It’s like Khloe before the athletes. Non-conforming. Authentic. Approachable. Anyway, that doesn’t mean things don’t get weird. They do. Folks tend to under-dress. Of course, a few dabble with cosplay. Generally, it’s a dirty mess peppered with a few dashes of style. That, however, is what makes the perfectly placed painter’s uniform, or denim overall with a red lip oh so sweet to happen upon.
Headliners this year included Chicago’s own Chance The Rapper, who took the opportunity to squash a lingering beef with Vic Mensa, another hometown lyricist. Arcade Fire did their usual ‘hey look how many instruments we can play’ routine (i kid), and XX pulled off a surprisingly sentimental set. Bishop Briggs got the crowd fired with her powerhouse vocals and I missed Jadenna whose show basically began at 9 a.m. (sorry, but 3 p.m. is crazy early on the weekend. I’m a bum). Again, the diversity of the music was reflected in the style of the crowd.
