What We Read (On Shirts) At Lollapalooza 2011

It was a truly glorious thing to be reminded of the righteous, orgiastic power of the Woodstock Effect over the weekend at Lollapalooza. Sunday’s downpours put an exclamation mark on a lineup that included: Eminem, Coldplay, Foo Fighters, Deadmau5 and a lot of pop music, plenty of skin courtesy of shockingly fit Midwesterners, the endless parade of hoopsters—Bulls jerseys and white NBA players were trending disproportionately again this year—the sausage, the pizza, the sausage pizza, the koozies, the tall boys, wine water bottles, old people selling drugs to young people, young people selling drugs to old people, tweakers, trippers, drunks, rollers, hand-standers, jumpers of invisible jump ropes, tank-top tans, jorts, the occasional celebrity sighting, a field of mud and/or dog shit, a rash of bros riding bros’ shoulders, no cell service, erotic hula hoopers, not one poi sighting thank god, lasers, kids everywhere (with one notable toddler taking photos with the poise of an aging pro), rappers seemingly conversing to a script (that would be you, Eminem), DJs talking trash about festival organizers (that would be you, Girl Talk), rockers being completely in awe of the crowd sizes at their sets (Foster the People, Local Natives), teenagers making out with teenagers or passing out mid-day in between check-in calls with Mom and Dad, an untold number of references to the fountain from “Married with Children,” doughty and variously phallic Chicagoland skyscrapers rearing in the absurdly near distance and, yes, seas of white people.

Before the rain began falling and the mud obscured the writing on our tees, this was a weekend awash in competitive irony. While the girls invariably tossed on a cute dress with some neon undergarments, dudes were there to make statements. Here were some of the weekend’s winning slogans.

Chris Trenchard covers the arts for 7×7.com and the Santa Barbara News-Press. His writing has appeared in Pitchfork, Yahoo! Entertainment, SF Weekly, the Dallas Observer and the SF Bay Guardian. His body trembles at the thought of covering Outside Lands Music Festival in SF this weekend.

Top photo by Brendan Wright