How am I still on Coachella…I know guys, I know. What can I say, I packed one too many #OOTDs for a weekend. We headed back to the festival in the middle of a sandstorm (explains the paisley accessories) around 5 for a beautiful dinner in the Rose Garden. Though it was all kinds of delish and we made some interesting new friends at the communal table, I hoovered all the drinks and food I could keep down as fast as possible so I could catch the end of Ryan Adams‘ set. We then met up with some friends to watch what ended up being the highlight of the trip; Stromae. I’m not one to stick myself in the middle of a huge crowd to get trampled by drunk strangers, but man am I glad I made an exception this time. He was just…wow. My favourite Belgian even did a little dance with his buddy Kanye which was pretty cute to witness, though I was kinda disappointed Mr. West didn’t sing a verse from his remix of Alors On Danse. We were still listening to Stromae’s Racine Carrée’s on our road trip to Disney World, which caused my mother to become an instant fan. She now insists we blast Formidable on repeat all around the house 24/7, though she still can’t quite remember his name. Florence and The Machine, the act I was most looking forward to, was next. My favourite fairy had a broken foot due to all the jumping around she did during her set the previous weekend, but it didn’t take any of her magic away. Finally it was Drake‘s turn to take the stage, and my turn to jam a little too hard and make people around me uncomfortable. A perfect close to a perfect weekend. Midnight Cowboy
I have a guilty conscience
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