The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

On Sunday at Electric Daisy Carnival New York, it was 50 degrees, intermittently raining, extremely windy, and... Sunday. I wore a leotard, jeans, three sweatshirts layered on top of each other, and an angry expression. This set me apart dramatically from the other festivalgoers, who appeared to be having a reasonably good time and were not wearing any clothes at all.

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The only defining characteristic of Electric Daisy Carnival “street style” is a defiant lack thereof. As far as I could tell, EDC is essentially a bunch of teens and rave nerds in a parking lot wearing whatever the fuk they want, and that does not include outerwear, mom!! Major themes included neon, tutus, scary masks/face paint, faux fur, fruit, spandex, bandanas, glitter, stuffed animals, and offensive headdresses. And butts! One million butts:

Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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I cannot imagine ever wanting to have my butt out in a non-aquatic scenario, especially in 50 degree weather, but(t) to each her own!

These fluffy wookie boots were the accessory to beat at Electric Daisy Carnival, and in this specific weather situation I kind of wanted a pair:

Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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As for these attendees’ male counterparts, it was all about masks and full-body costumes, which was really not my bag:

Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

What does this hand signal mean? I don’t know! Did I like it inside this tent? Definitely not!

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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

I identified with this banana, captured here during a moment of quiet reflection in between dance bursts:

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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

I did not identify with these people in Native American headdresses:

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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
Can you spot the Jezebel staffer?
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Troops of women in elaborate costumes were shuttled around the festival and deployed at various locations to pose and giggle and march around in step, which was very exciting; their outfits were obviously a pretty steep hike up from everyone else’s:

Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival
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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

As was Baddie Winkle’s, who was on the scene, for some reason, as a Smirnoff Ice ambassador:

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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

What a day, and really, hats off to the women of Electric Daisy Carnival, who were determined to wear their festie looks no matter the physical cost.

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Illustration for article titled The No-Fucks Fashion of Electric Daisy Carnival

Images by Ellie Shechet

Ellie is a freelance writer and former senior writer at Jezebel. She is pursuing a master's degree in science journalism at Columbia University in the fall.

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DISCUSSION

randilynbeginagain
randilynis...

I think the buckskin suedes and leathers and the magnificent headdresses with the lovely feathers (and oh, the the beautiful intricate beadwork), the pony prints, the carvings and drawings and symbols of the Native Peoples are entrancing and compelling and I can understand wanting to be glorious in them. But it’s not for me to do more than admire them. Avoiding appropriation is such a challenge when it involves admiration and longing.

It’s a consequence of the overwhelming nature of white privilege that the casual disrespect has cost us the ability to participate without offense. As such, it’s a fair price.