Wonderland’s Eunice Jera Lee throws herself into the pits of Lovebox and wiles out with Snoop Dogg, Robyn and Beth Ditto. She ruined her shoes, lost her mind and is trying to find her dignity somewhere under the mud of Vikky Park.
For the sake of journalism and self-sacrifice, I went deep into the trenches of Lovebox at Victoria Park last weekend. Loveably known as Vikky Park, the terrain was covered in dewy greens, birds fluttering about with the sun shining. That is, until day one of Lovebox, in which God disapprovingly spew his divine wrath and spat torrential rain and monsoon upon us.
My weekend began on Friday night with the second birthday of London party group “Twat Boutique” for drunks of all persuasions. Miss Dynamite was set to jam downstairs of XOYO kicking off what Peaches accomplished last year- being the bonafide Olympian flame carrier of Lovebox.
My dates for the evening were Hannah Scanlon from Doll and the Kicks, fellow fashion journalist Katharine and ex-Prada model, Lauren Cherry. Needless to say, the basement of XOYO rapidly morphed into a sweatbox orgy and by the end of the night, Katharine had received an impressive 9 threats of getting punched in the face.
We didn’t sleep that night.
Rather, we found ourselves twisted together in a vegetated state on someone’s sofa the next morning. There were bottles of wine and vodka scattered across the floor, my beautiful Marsèll shoes bobbing in a puddle of God knows what, and cigarette butts discarded on top of someone’s Lanvin sweater. *
Six of us missed the festival on Saturday. Instead, we gazelle-hopped over cobblestones and made our way to the Shoreditch House. We used the sauna, brunched, drank, showered, drank some more, and awaited Snoop’s arrival. Tracy Sedino of Linda Farrow came and we all danced the night away. Except, not to Snoop…because three hours after his appointed arrival time, everyone started getting a bit antsy, pushy and a little too sober.
Snoop was inside smoking a J. Allegedly.
The next day, we gathered at Dalston Superstore for a liquid lunch, guzzled a gallon of vodka tonics and jumped into a cab. Sunday at Vikky was “Out and Out Fierce” and they’re not joking. This is the day everyone comes out, comes out, and looks fierce (hence, an apt name for the day)!
Sunday was Scissor Sisters, Robyn, Kelis and Beth Ditto…basically the biggest fag hags they could get their hands on sans Blondie. Oh no, wait, Blondie was there. Running back and forth from The NYC Downlow to the mainstage, pardon me, I mean sloshing back and forth. Did I mention? Everyone was ankle deep in mud…or fertilizer.
I left relatively early circa 10PM and headed back to Dalston Superstore. I spent the rest of the night discussing feminism and dykes with Beth Ditto and making out with Robyn, though I may have been delirious by that point, so don’t hold me to that last bit.
*Note to future festival attendees: Do NOT wear Lanvin.*
Photography: Christa Holka
Words: Eunice Jera Lee