Festival Style

A couple weeks ago, I was organizing clothes to take to Kerrville. It’s a process that requires some thought. I usually start several days before departure, allowing time to consider possibilities and combinations. And I get amused imagining what my mom — or any other non-Kerrvert — might think if she were to observe the process.

“Excuse me,” she might say, “I thought this was a campout?”

“This has nothing to do with camping!” our late, great photographer Ken Schmidt once said, in response to a similar question. I couldn’t quite agree with him, then or now. We sleep in tents, cook outside, socialize under portable awnings, and stargaze from canvas chairs at night. Of course we’re camping! But I can’t say we’re “roughing it.” I think that’s what Schmidty really meant.

Yes, the Folk Festival is a campout. It’s also an 18-day party. A party where we spend time with a great many people we care about, including some that we look up to and may want to impress. A place where we mourn the departed and celebrate weddings, birthdays and anniversaries. Kerrverts will dress for those sorts of things. Also — as I learned in 1985 — even if you’re not on the program, you never know when you’ll wind up performing on Main Stage. And I guess it goes without saying that you need to be prepared for a wide range of weather conditions, because the Hill Country is like that in May and June.

So I picked out my wardrobe. Three pairs of shorts (red, white and khaki), a pair of capris, and one pair of full-length jeans. Four T-shirts. A small assortment of tank tops and cool, gauzy shirts for the really hot days. Two button-up shirts with sleeves, to be worn alone or layered over other things for sun protection. Three dresses and a short denim skirt. We’re talking casual dresses here; no stockings or high heels, but I did throw in a shawl that goes with the black dress, in case I want to get fancy. For campfires on cool nights, the red-striped playera that I “adopted” from Javier’s closet many festivals ago. (It fits me better anyway, and has a kangaroo pocket where I can stash bassoon reeds.) Rain jacket, of course. A few bandannas. After getting all that lined up, I focused on picking out jewelry.

“JEWELRY?” says the hypothetical mom who's watching me pack. Well, yes. Didn’t I just point out that this is a party? Besides, my husband is a bead artist. How would it look if I went around like a plain-jane not wearing any ornaments? After some winnowing, I settled on three necklaces and six sets of earrings. I avoid taking my most favorite earrings, because I have been known to lose them in the weeds and dirt.

Oh yes, footwear. My Teva sandals, which I’ll probably wear most of the time, but also sneakers and a few pairs of socks in case the feet need more protection. I have a pair of knee-high mud boots that have proved useful at past festivals, but decided not to bother taking them this year. I figured it couldn’t possibly rain that much.

.. which proves that even after three decades of experience, I can still miscalculate.