This time last week I was making history, with me being inducted in the Hollywood “Walk of Fame” this week. Not actually, but I did experience a sense of mini-stardom at Womadelaide.
For those who don’t know what Womad is, it’s ‘World of Music and Dance’ festival, and it’s becoming a tradition for me to go and soak up the sun and cultural sounds. This year, however, my friend had acquired backstage passes – you can tell where I’m going with this.
On the Friday night, I had lost my friends and was stumbling around the ‘mosh pit’ like the hot mess I am. Luckily I came across a group of reporters from the local news station, who I was convinced were my family friends. After a few minutes of introducing and establishing the fact that I merely recognised them from T.V., we were well on our way to breaking down to Chic performing their classic hit ‘Le Freak’.
Throughout the slurs of the lyrics, the inhales of a joint they were passing around and my blurry eyes, I noticed that my new found “celebrity” friends had backstage passes. They apparently were not as ecstatic as me that we could all go backstage together, so it was their loss in the following minutes.
I had made it to the side of the stage when Chic called everyone backstage onstage. I knew that in this moment, my debut performance, I would make a lasting impression on the general public. With no uncertainty I followed some new found 40-something year old female friends onstage and started busting a few moves. Thank God I was under the influence, as I would of never of called one of the singers a “cute little Nicki Minaj” without it.
It felt like seconds, due to a number of factors, and the song was over. I knew I had to get another taste of fame, and I did. If my Chic performance was a bite of the cookie, then I devoured the whole thing on Saturday.
First Aid Kit were performing in the middle of the day, and my friend and I had devised a plan to sneak her backstage with me to meet them. Of course, our drunken conniving plan worked, and we were both within the arms of the two extremely kind ladies. We were in awe of how down to Earth the pair was, and with no hesitation pitched the inevitable question – “May we come onstage for the encore?”.
My friend and I had decided they were merely being kind to us as their set came to a close, until we heard our names being asked to join the stage. Sprinting to centre stage, we danced our way through the final number with the cheers from the clearly envious crowd motivating us.
After the song we returned of stage with the girls, who we thanked ever so much and got photos with. If there is any chance you girls are reading this thank you so much for that experience, being humble and talented is a hard thing, in which you two posses.
I felt like Britney Spears once I left the stage. Stares from the crowd, people I had not met coming up to me and talking to me, and I felt flattered(?) and awkward at the same time. That was, until, I made friends with someone amazing.
You know those people you become apparent best friends with in one night, then end up never seeing or talking to again? I had that all with my new found BFF Jordan. We hugged, laughed, danced and even passed around yet another joint together. Maybe we will reunite next year?
My final day at the festival, Sunday, was one of the oddest of them all. Unfortunately, I did not make it onstage this day, but someone I had never met did exchange an an odd remark to me. Awaiting the band to take the stage, this male came up to me, handed me a joint and said “I know you smoke”.
Excuse me kind(?) Sir, I do smoke, but I don’t think I appear as the pot-head type. Maybe he was a stalking fan over the previous days, or maybe he just assumed that a male teenager would smoke weed at Womad.
..Or maybe I merely radiate “faggot” and pot-head?