Festival Season Is a Blast and Also Kind of a Hot Mess

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Festival season is fun — but between the flights, the single-wear outfits, and the gear left behind, your personal environmental footprint adds up quickly. The festivals are doing something about it, but are you?

Packing list for festival season: sunscreen, a portable charger, three outfits you’ll never wear again, and a carbon footprint that adds up faster than you’d think. The average festival-goer logs about 903 miles just getting to the gates, and that journey — whether by car, carpool, or plane — accounts for up to 80 percent of a festival’s total carbon footprint. And that’s not the generators powering the main stage or the lighting rigs running all night. That’s you, your besties, and everyone else, getting there.

A recent report puts the average music festival’s output at 500 tons of carbon emissions over three days, working out to roughly 5 kilograms of CO₂ per attendee per day. At Coachella, which draws 125,000 attendees daily, transportation-related greenhouse gas emissions have been estimated at more than 1.18 million kilograms of CO₂ equivalent — roughly what 251 passenger vehicles generate in an entire year.

The outfit situation is its own chapter. A Barnardo’s survey found that U.K. festival-goers collectively spend about $307 million annually on approximately 7.5 million single-use outfits — clothes bought specifically for the occasion and rarely worn again. Broader fast fashion data gives that number context: clothing is now worn an average of just seven to 10 times before being discarded, a drop of more than 35 percent over the past 15 years. About 41 percent of young women say they feel pressure not to repeat an outfit even to a casual outing, and festival season — with its daily outfit expectations and constant social documentation — is practically built for that kind of purchasing.

Material choice adds to the math. A single polyester t-shirt carries a carbon footprint of 5.5 kilograms of CO₂ equivalent, compared to 2.1 kilograms for a cotton version. Synthetic fibers made up just 3 percent of clothing in 1960; today that figure is 68 percent. The fashion industry as a whole generates 92 million tonnes of waste annually, with projections putting that number at 134 million tonnes by 2030.

Then there’s the tent problem, which tends to get overlooked in the broader conversation. According to the Association of Independent Festivals, an estimated 250,000 tents are abandoned at music festivals each year, generating about 900 tonnes of waste — most of which heads straight to landfill because cheap festival tents (typically polyester or nylon, both petroleum-derived synthetics) don’t biodegrade and are too labor-intensive for charities to collect at scale. Organizations set up to reclaim and redistribute gear manage to salvage roughly one in ten tents at best. At Glastonbury, one year’s worth of abandoned gear came to 11 tonnes of material: 6,500 sleeping bags, 5,500 tents, 3,500 airbeds, and 2,200 chairs left behind. Tents alone account for 17 percent of U.K. festival waste that ends up in landfill. Single-use cups, cutlery, and food packaging pile up quickly across a three-day event. Coachella generates an estimated 1,600 tons of waste per year, with only about 20 percent of it recycled.

The festivals themselves aren’t standing still on any of this. Since 2023, Glastonbury has run entirely on renewable energy — all generators, including those powering the Pyramid Stage, ran on HVO fuel made from waste cooking oil, reducing lifecycle CO₂ emissions by up to 90 percent. “Being able to power the entire festival without having to rely on fossil fuels this year has been a real breakthrough,” Emily Eavis, co-organizer of the festival, told Access All Areas in 2023, “but it is the culmination of lots of baby steps that have seen us steadily increase our use of renewable energy.” The festival also bans single-use plastic serveware and disposable vapes, requires compostable or FSC-assured wood cutlery from all vendors, and has achieved over 98 percent tent take-home rates through sustained attendee messaging.

Coachella’s “TRASHed: Art of Recycling” program turns artist-designed recycling bins into installations, and the festival diverted 298.6 tons of waste through composting and recycling in 2023 alone. Lollapalooza’s 2024 battery-powered stage system cut fuel use and greenhouse gas emissions by 67 percent over prior years, and Bonnaroo — the first major US festival to install a permanent solar array — runs a volunteer food recovery program that donates over 20,000 pounds of food per year to local food banks. Over 40 U.K. festivals have pledged to halve their emissions and reach 50 percent recycling rates by 2025.

“I think festivals are important because we can actually do things differently for a short while at our campsite,” Sanne Stephansen, head of sustainability at Roskilde Festival, told Atmos Magazine. “We can offer a window into the future, so we always try to [stick to] the theme of utopia.”

Artists have started pulling serious weight too, in ways that go beyond a hashtag. Coldplay’s Music of the Spheres World Tour became a genuine case study: the band cut direct CO₂ emissions by 59 percent compared to their previous stadium tour, verified by MIT’s Environmental Solutions Initiative, using kinetic dancefloor tiles that convert audience movement into electricity, compostable LED wristbands reused from show to show, and a rechargeable stage battery built from recyclable BMW i3 batteries. The band flew on sustainable aviation fuel to cut more than 3,000 additional tonnes of CO₂, and planted one tree per ticket sold — over seven million trees across 24 countries.

Billie Eilish has approached it differently but just as seriously: her Overheated climate conference, co-founded with her mom Maggie Baird’s nonprofit Support+Feed, brought together climate activists, artists, and thought leaders alongside fans. Her Hit Me Hard and Soft tour partnered with REVERB on waste and emissions reduction, and included an Eco-Action Village at each stop, connecting attendees with local environmental organizations. “It’s a never-ending f—king fight,” Eilish told Billboard.

The question still remains, though: what role do you, festival-goer, play in any of it? Seriously, what’s a fan actually supposed to do?

Start with how you get there

Transportation is the highest-impact variable in your personal festival footprint, and it’s where the most meaningful adjustments happen. Sharing a car with even two other people cuts your per-person emissions significantly; taking a shuttle or festival bus cuts them further. If you’re flying in solo from across the country for a long weekend, that round trip is almost certainly the single largest environmental cost in your entire summer — it outweighs everything in your carry-on by a significant margin. Coachella runs a Carpoolchella program that incentivizes arriving in groups, and most major festivals have something similar; it’s worth a look before you book anything.

Your airline may have a carbon offset program that you can look into. But watch out for gimmicks. You can take other measures to offset your travel, like eating plant-based while at the event or planting some trees when you return.

The packing list rethink

The most straightforward move on the fashion side is wearing what you already own, or investing in something you’ll genuinely reach for again after the weekend. A set worn three times is better than three sets worn once, in every sense. Thrifting and clothing rental have both gotten considerably easier to work with; a weekend’s worth of looks can often be sourced for less than a fast fashion haul and with far less waste attached. If you’re buying new, natural fibers produce lower emissions in manufacturing and don’t shed microplastics in the wash the way synthetics do.

Your tent and camping gear should come home with you, too. If logistics truly don’t allow it, most festivals now have on-site donation points or gear-swap infrastructure; arranging a handoff before you leave beats abandoning everything at the campsite exit. A reusable water bottle and cup are a small addition to any bag that eliminates a notable share of your single-use plastic contribution for the weekend. None of these adjustments are especially demanding, but their impacts are significant; they mostly come down to decisions made before you’re already in line for the shuttle.

“Climate change is a real challenge for our generation,” Eavis said. “We need to take action now if we are to arrest the damage that has already been done.”

And if your impact is still too top of mind, there’s always the other option: stay home and watch it on YouTube like the rest of us.

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