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Contributors Scenes from the Desert

by Gala Darling and Joe Gall May 11, 2010 - 11:44 am

Rumer Willis

As a Coachella virgin, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect.  “100,000 people,” I was told.  “Frigging hot,” I was cautioned.  “Hipsterfest 2010,” someone declared.

While these tidbits would be enough to put any sane person totally off the idea, the warnings worked like an aphrodisiac.  I began to lust over the madness.  ‘Yes!’, I thought.  ‘Throw me in amongst the ridiculous fray. Let’s experience this in all its frenzied glory.’

Coachella Chopper

Famous last words.

As I sit writing this, at a resort in Palm Springs, with pre-noon temperatures idling around 85°, memories from yesterday race through my head.  A fusion of delight & debauchery, there was pulchritude & barbarity in equal measure.  Girls in thong bikinis with sunburned bottoms & enormous dragonflies swooping & diving.  More free liquor than anyone could possibly want, & my editor Barbie brandishing a bottle of Finlandia with blood-curdling triumph.  Senior citizens lounging by the pool, arms covered in wristbands & Rumer Willis dancing on the Red Bull bus to David Guetta’s Sexy Bitch.  Serene one-person teepees & stinky bogs & maniacs on motorbikes.  A bar called Cougars with three middle-aged women walking in the door, & more pairs of denim shorts than you possibly thought could be manufactured.

Partiers Partying

What is this place?  This lush green oasis in the middle of nothingness, flanked by palatial purple mountains?  This place where people come to play tennis & see bands & sizzle in the sun?  There are hot pink blossoms from a flowering tree falling on my head & to my right, a popcorn machine emits that famous buttery smell.  In the words of David After Dentist, <www.youtube.com/watch?v=txqiwrbYGrs> “Is this real life?”

This afternoon we head back into the fracas, to see what can be seen.  How can you document this kind of melee?  Is it really possible to interact with drunken, affluent savages?  What can be gleaned from these feral sophisticates?  What foul wounds will we nurse all the way back to the East Coast, the land of the stable?

Eddie and Whitney

Please cross your fingers with purpose, sing Gaelic blessings under your breath, wish on stars on our behalf.  It has only been one day so far.

Words by Gala Darling with photos by Seth Johnson

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