Coachella isn’t just about the cutting edge of Madonna and Drake kissing on stage, it’s about the people. If you’re a ticket buyer who spent their entire last paycheck from the Coffee Bean on a single wristband, you’re in with the tens of thousands sweaty masses taking ecstasy and imagining you’re a musical vanguard. If you’ve got a decent publicist, you’re in the cordoned off wide open area for the celebrities and their pharmaceutical reps. Tell your stylist to read up on Woodstock so she can outfit your appropriately. Bring a boy to make out with because you didn’t do high school and missed all the Hootie concerts. Bad girls dressed like injuns go to the front of the Arts Festival line. Have somebody tell you the name of your favorite band there and hope you don’t get a rash. Don’t forget the second weekend.
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