My FYF weekend began on my sidewalk anxiously waiting for a Lyft to take me to Exposition Park. Typically, when I cover a festival I’m traveling for it, so I don’t have anything to really do but be at that festival or refresh my email in my hotel room. But as a new Los Angeles resident, this was my first hometown fest, Friday was a normal work day that I spent itching to get to the grounds so I could give our Instagram Story followers a first look.
But that was a manufactured anxiety; I climbed into the Lyft wishing I left earlier as it would now be too dark for a quintessential Frankie “festival tour.” We picked up my fellow passenger (don’t knock Lyft Line I’m a girl on a budget), a woman from San Francisco who was also headed to FYF. She had decided to make the trip last minute by herself, she couldn’t get any of her friends to join and her partner was doing something active and adventurous with all of his male relatives. I gave her my best tips for navigating a festival solo before we parted ways.
The first thing I noticed about FYF is how spacious the grounds felt and how slow time seemed to move. With four stages and two DJ zones paired with a tight lineup, I didn’t run into a lot of instances where I had to decide between two sets or take travel time into consideration the way you have to a festival like Coachella. I did a lap and strolled right up to Bjork’s set without having to elbow a single person to get to the front. I had low expectations for Bjork, thinking her music was too mellow for a festival crowd, but was surprised by how long I spent at her set, standing next to women with naturally gray hair (as opposed to a manic panic silver) completely entranced.