The first time I went to Glastonbury I was 19 and it rained.
The weather wasn't just biblical: it was Old Testament. Specifically, the book of Job. My friends and I were in a band at the time, and due to play, but the stage sank into the rapidly expanding quagmire beneath it, and the gig was cancelled.
That was 1997 – pre "festival fashion". There were no specific rules regarding attire in those days, except that, since having high self-esteem was "in", you just wore your Best Things, possibly with added fairy wings (there were lots of fairies in the 90s, because of ecstasy). Thus we arrived in carelessly impractical, carefully selected charity-shop garb which fared so badly in the Somerset monsoon we were forced to discard it item by item as events unfolded. By the time we drove back to London, we were in knickers and bin bags – even our tour manager, a tattooed ex-punk in his 30s.
It wouldn't happen now, which is a pity: explaining why you're wearing shoes made out of gaffer tape to an impassive Little Chef night manager who won't give you the key to the toilet is character building. These days the trickiest thing about festival attire is that there's simultaneously too much choice and too much uniformity. So with that in mind (and plenty of experience in the area as a punter and presenter) here's my festival wardrobe edit.
If it's welly weather, wear the right socks (longer than your boots, to avoid calf chafing). I favour dresses, shorts and skirts rather than jeans at festivals, paired with long socks. It looks cuter, and if it's muddy all you have to do is change your socks rather than find somewhere to stash a pair of jeans that look like you just dug them up from a peat bog.
Even if it's warm, leave your flip-flops at home. If the words "drop toilet" don't mean anything to you yet, they will once you try to tackle the area that surrounds one with naked feet.
See also playsuits/onesies/dungarees. PORTALOOS, guys. PORTALOOS.
Layers. I once attended a T in the Park that held the dubious distinction of being the only festival in British history to see people admitted to the local A&E with sunstroke and frostbite on the same day. Even if it's glorious at 2pm, 12 hours later you'll still be up, and it will be nippy.
Don't wear what you're supposed to. High-street shops are full of festival fashion, but why be in the same faux-ho kit as everybody else if that's not your style? I have found Markus Lupfer's shimmering knits to be surprisingly practical for field-based frolics, and a leopard parka makes a welcome change from camo print.
If in doubt, all you really need is shades, a hands-free bag and wellies. And maybe a few bin bags…
Follow Lauren on Twitter @LaurenLaverne
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