Starfields: The Festival That Never Gets Old

I’m one of a rare gang who have watched the evolution of Starfields over all four years of my degree, from its origins as a mysterious offering in the Freshers’ group chat to something I am definitely way too old for now. In sub-honours, I went bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; in honours, I was a more weathered attendee. However, through an odd decision to live in St Salvator’s Hall this year, I’ve learned that the hype around Starfields has in no way lessened in the past four years. In fact, amidst a plethora of Union events, it’s been the standout dinner topic. Plus, it’s still allegedly the biggest student-run festival in the UK, and sells out in minutes.

The creative theme for FS this year — for the uninformed fresher, one of St Andrews’ biggest fashion collectives — is ‘Skin.’ To paraphrase what could be gleaned from the website, it’s in accordance with the rising body positivity movement. FS believe that your clothes act like a second skin, and are a vital means of expression. This motto was not exactly obvious in the decor or happenings at Starfields, but in essence it’s a respectable idea. FS also made sustainable endeavours such as a ‘clothes to rent’ stall at its ticket pickup, which exemplified not only the opulence of the committee’s wardrobes but also a clever way to wear a braggable piece for cheap. 

Starfields’ strange entry time always leads to a mass exodus at 5:29pm for the 5:30pm cutoff. I was certainly a part of this late arrival, having stood agonising over my outfit and being advised by a posse of Freshers in the Sallies bathroom. For future reference, as evidenced by the swarms on Market Street, the dress code is actually quite marked. The ‘girl uniform’ seems to be a short skirt, long boots situation, with a cute top — think California, not Caledonia. Otherwise, an open shirt or ski goggles-type fit seems to do the trick. In any case, gratuitous jewellery is a must. However, as unanimous as the outfits were, they weren’t perhaps appropriate for the Scottish climate. 

It has to be said that FS was dealt a bad hand when it came to the weather. FS always takes a risk trying to emanate Coachella in a place with such dodgy weather. In fact, Sallies Quad was looking a level of dark-academia gloomy usually reserved for the depths of December and January. On sunnier Starfields of days gone by, groups of friends usually perch on the lawn mound. Here, Red Bull umbrellas and garlands with committee photos went largely, and sadly, unnoticed. In a way, the bad weather was beneficial: Usually the tent area tends to be pitifully empty until darkness descends, but it was packed from the beginning. The music was, as I wrote in my notes, ‘housey’; crowd pleasers were blended with electronic beats, meaning something for all to enjoy. 

One of FS’s main bragging rights when it comes to Starfields is the sheer number of people it manages to attract — around 2,500, a third of the student body — but this isn’t without issue. There was a distinct lack of organisation to any queue — for the bathrooms, it was more of a scramble to any portaloo whose door opened rather than a regulated system, and the bars, too, were swarmed. In everybody’s rush to get drunk at the beginning, I had to wait half an hour to reach the front of a queue at what wasn’t even the main bar. One does wonder if, with a few more stalls along the perimeter, this could solve what is always a problem at Starfields. The committee couldn’t have predicted the rain, but to knowingly attract such crowds, they need to be somewhat organised.

All in all, did I enjoy my final Starfields? Yes, but I’m fine with it being my last. This is an event intended for Freshers and Americans yearning for Coachella, but one which anyone can enjoy. There’s a reason this is billed as the highlight of Freshers’ Week; It never changes, you just grow up around it.

Photos by Olga Alonso Blanco