How to smell like you’re at Glastonbury

During the last week of June for over half a decade, thousands of people make the pilgrimage to Worthy Farm. Originally starting in 1970 with just over 1,000 people and a £1 ticket that included free milk, Glastonbury Festival is a sprawling, mud-slicked utopia where music, myth and the spirit of radical self-expression collide under the Somerset skies. 55 years later, the gathering is now arguably the most iconic and renowned festival in the world, and interwoven with the fabric of British pop culture. Tickets can be hard to come by these days, and since we didn’t want anyone to miss out on the experience, we’ve attempted to create an olfactory topography of Glastonbury so that even if you can’t be there, at least you can smell like you are.

Glastonbury started as a psychedelic experiment inspired by the hippy and counterculture movements of the 1960s, and the ethos of anarchy and free love still reverberates today. If you want to tune in and drop out through your fragrance, Andrea Maack’s Solstice is the perfect place to start. Opening with aquatic fresh watermelon, it melts into a luminous bouquet with dusty violet, heady jasmine, and the crystal clarity of sinfonide.

In a more traditional ode to the hippie movement, patchouli is the obvious perfume pitstop. Inspired by an acid trip at Ally Pally in 1969, where Pink Floyd’s sonic spellcasting marked the birth of psychedelic rock, JUSBOX’s 14Hour Dream is a deliciously comforting combination of patchouli and vanilla that is both seductive and grounding. To really touch some grass, Maison Crivelli’s Patchouli Magnetik is a herbal hotbox without the sweetness but with the sexiness of free love, underpinned by a suitably damp soil-like saffron. Voodoo Chile from Dries Van Noten is an ode to Jimi Hendrix and the true spirit of psychedelia with cannabis, rosemary, patchouli and creamy sandalwood harmonising to evoke the dank incense of a fresh pack of Purple Haze.

What makes Glastonbury so magical is the sheer scale of it, both in terms of geography and demographic. Sprawling across 1500 acres of farmland, the festival consists of myriad different mini-festivals. From the sacred stillness of the Stone Circle at dawn to the apocalyptic hedonism of Block9, each corner of Worthy Farm carries its own invisible perfume. Shrouded in mist and myth, The Stone Circle – Glasto’s mini Stonehenge – holds the secrets of ancient soil and slow-burning incense, sacred resins grounding bare feet on dewy grass evoked by Stora Skuggan’s Silphium or 19-69’s Female Christ.

Patchouli is the signature of The Healing Fields, mixed in with classic wafting of Nag Champa burning outside of a chai tent. As dusk falls, Shangri-La lights up, transforming into a theatrical cabaret whirlwind of rave smoke, spray paint and sweaty stage make-up. Intoxicating, swirling and borderline hallucinogenic, think: BTSO’s Mad Honey (inspired by hallucinogenic Nepalese honey) or D.S. & Durga’s smokey Burning Barbershop. In the South East corner, we find my favourite spot, Block9: high gloss and genderless sensuality in an ephemerally erected warehouse. The pure hedonism of NYC Downlow is the sweaty leather fantasy of Etat Libre d’Orange’s Tom of Finland and UFO’s 165 BPMs. And, of course, the toilets… 

There’s nothing quite like seeing your favourite musician live at Glastonbury. The scent of Charli xcx? DKNY Be Delicious springs to mind – it’s Y2K green chrome apple (insert song lyrics) with zingy cucumbery, and it’s basic but it’s also an era-defining cult classic. Or, from one party girl to another, perhaps the discontinued Nasomatto China White if you can source a rare bottle, named after pure cocaine. Staying with the slightly on the nose (or in it?) cocaine gimmick for Friday’s headliners The 1975, try 19-69’s Miami Blue, which has aldehydes, lemon, bergamot and a very pungent line of cocaine – an obnoxiously niche cologne-leaning scent I can imagine Matty enjoying. Olivia Rodrigo could be a sea of Vanilla Sin by Ellis Brooklyn, a cute, gourmand, sustainable, all-American body mist with a slight edge. For Neil Young, try D.S. & Durga Brown Flowers – pure 70s hot flowerhouse drab.

Soulstress Celeste will be gracing us on the Pyramid Stage at midday on Sunday with a spellbinding performance. She says she will be dousing herself with the “sexy, mossy” Eau Triple Lichen d'Écosse from Buly 1803, a perfume she just found at her grandparents’ house that an “old glamorous man” bought for her in Selfridges, along with a spiritual balm. “It’s like incense oil perfume,” she explains of the Alma Fragrance Oil, which blends vanilla and dark chocolate with frankincense and white amber. “It’s very sexy but also calming.” 

For the festivalgoers themselves, turning to a fresh fragrance can help counteract the scent of mud and stale sweat that comes from four days of not showering. Lily, early 30s, a filmmaker, fraghead and feral festivalgoer, first went to Glastonbury 20 years ago. “For me, it’s Issey Miyake’s L’eau d’Issey,” a scent inspired by waterfall spray, florals and springtime forests. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint. I’ll spray Issey in the tent, getting ready for the last act. I want to feel slick and confident while I’m making eyes and winks with the straight crowds before descending to the queer utopia of the South East corner for God knows how long.” 

Max, 32, an editorial director from London, is a similarly seasoned veteran, with the stories to match. “You obviously need to smell good, or as much as you can after five days in a field. A smell that forever reminds me of Glasto is Burberry Brit. I doused myself in it when I went for the first time in 2005. Then I met Kate Moss in the crowd and she lit my cigarette.” This year, however, he will be living his own bergamot, geranium and patchouli hippy fantasy in Bibbi’s Boy of June. 

As for me? My constant olfactory companion is going to be a cocktail from Discothéque, the brand designed to both honour and anoint the dancefloor. Laced with absinthe, sea salt, mimosa and musks, Sweat, Tears, Paradise is the most delectable ode to debaucherous nights by the ocean, whilst Call For A Good Time is a shimmering shroud of ylang ylang, jasmine and yuzu inspired by Tokyo in the 2000s. For an extra kick, I might need to throw in All Night Until First Light, a spicy grapefruit discoball of a scent aptly named for long nights and early mornings. If you see me, ask for a spritz – I might have some to spare.