Raging in Plain Sight: The Dressed-Down Ravers of Beyond Wonderland

If you ask a person on the street, “What does a raver wear?” they’d likely give you a tired and dated answer like, “giant JNCO jeans, tie-dye and pacifiers.” Keep in mind, the average citizen’s only connection to rave culture is from when the movie Go aired on Comedy Central in the background as they assembled some IKEA furniture.

Ask someone who’s a bit more versed in festival culture the same question, and they’ll give you an answer closer to the mark. For guys, it’s tank tops or tees, shorts, and enough HUF socks that the venue could qualify as a dispensary. For girls, you’ll likely hear mentions of bedazzled bras, swatches of lycra masquerading as shorts, and maybe a furry boot or two. Throw in a handful of kandi masks and bracelets for all parties, and most of you would likely agree we’ve described a fairly representative chunk of rave attendees.

"Reach out to the “normal” folks this festival season; you’ll likely have more in common than you ever realized."

Are these costumes the pinnacle of freedom and self-expression, or have they become as stifling and restrictive as the work clothes we wear Monday through Friday? Eh, probably not. But let’s be real for a second: As festivalgoers, when we see someone who is not exactly clad in raver gear, we’ve all been guilty, at one time or another, of wondering, “Hmm… what are they doing here?” Could they simply be out of their element, or might they be a poorly disguised undercover agent? We may close the circle a little and stick to chatting up those who more closely resemble how we’re dressed.

Maybe we judge too quickly, however. Maybe these normcore folks are just as ready to party as you or I. To that end, Insomniac sent me to Beyond Wonderland SoCal last weekend to seek out the less vividly dressed attendees and find out what compelled them to drive all the way out to a dance music festival in the middle of the San Bernardino Valley.

I first encountered Joseph hovering around the VIP area with his friend, watching Tiësto. Clad in a dark blue, short-sleeve button-up shirt and grey slacks, he was having a blast and bobbing his head to the music. When the time seemed right, I asked if we could speak, and he graciously agreed to share his time. Joseph explained that he was from the old guard of raving. He used to go to tons of massives and underground shows, but job responsibilities later in life made his attendance more prohibitive. This was his first rave in a decade! When he told me how excited he was to finally see Tiësto again, I saw the same light in his eyes that I saw from the kandi kids leaning out their car windows on the freeway on my drive up.

After trekking to another stage, I found a group dancing in the back of the Funk House. Among them was Paula, a very elegant-looking woman in a sensible blouse and jeans. She had come to Beyond to see a friend’s performance. Paula’s crew was a bit dancier than she was, but the beaming smile on her face told me that this was someone who knew how to have a great time, no matter where she was or what was blasting from the speakers. It turns out my instincts weren’t too off the mark, as she started screaming her head off and cutting a rug as I left the area. I couldn’t be sure, but did I see her hanging with DJ Jazzy Jeff later that evening?

A short time later, I met Daniel, a younger guy in a plain track jacket and white tee. Drink in hand, Daniel was eager to chat with me about how much he was enjoying his night. He, too, had made the trip to San Bernardino to see Tiësto, and he, too, had a long history of involvement with the scene. This was Daniel’s 15th straight year of raving and attending fests, but he wanted to make it abundantly clear that getting older doesn’t mean he’s ready to turn down.

I enjoyed the set with Daniel and his friend for a spell before meandering back over to Queen’s Domain. There I spotted Eric in a grey Henley and faded denim. To others, he may have been blending into the crowd, but he was just the sort of guy I was looking for. Eric was the first person I’d met who I wouldn’t categorize as an EDM fan. He’d been to fests before, but more of the “rock, alt rock and hippie variety,” as he put it. Still, the question remained: Was Eric, the first true fish out of water I’d encountered, having a fun time? Grinning as wide as the Cheshire Cat himself, he gave me the affirmative and told me how pumped he was for the following night’s Andy C set. We then shot the shit over a beer, talking about festivals of yesteryear, like how he went to Bonnaroo “while it still had good acts.”

Next up was Joe, a bespectacled guy with a buzz cut, who gave off a bit of that “cool uncle” vibe. His companion told me numerous times that he had never been to a rave or festival before. She was proud to be popping his rave cherry, and by the looks of it, he couldn’t have been happier to let her. I asked Joe what was so appealing about this sort of environment.

“It’s so liberal and open,” he replied. “It’s peaceful; there’s no judgment. Everyone is just free to dress and act as their authentic inner selves.” Joe sounded like a died-in-the-wool PLUR advocate if I’d ever heard one, and he’d been there only a few hours. He said he would definitely be coming back to one of these events.

I looked and looked for another lady to chat with, but I have to hand it to you girls—you made it difficult for me. Y’all go all out with these outfits, and I just wasn’t seeing any women dressed quite conservatively enough to justify one of my little interviews.

Victor wound up being my last conversation partner that night, in his monochromatic ensemble of a black polo, grey chino shorts and black Vans. Victor was more than meets the eye, however, and started letting me know just how excited he was for Dillon Francis’ upcoming set. And guess who his second favorite was? Tiësto must be putting subliminal messaging in his tunes to pull all these sleeper agents.

My overarching takeaway from my chats with these stealth ragers was only that in 2015, with EDM permeating the top 40 charts, there are fans of all stripes out there in the world. So, the next time you see someone at a show who looks a bit out of place, go up and say hello. Maybe they’re dressed that way because they rushed over straight from work; maybe they feel a little insecure in a more revealing outfit; maybe they just give zero fucks about what they’re wearing and are there strictly for the music. Whatever the genesis of the outfit, they’re almost certainly a fellow fan and undoubtedly a great person. Reach out to the “normal” folks this festival season; you’ll likely have more in common than you ever realized.

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