It is an extraordinary sight: the 5,000 acre Cornbury Park Estate rammed with thousands of the Cotswold crop, lords, ladies, and the types of billionaires that call themselves “upper middle class”.
Fathers swap their Square Mile uniform for macro-sequin iridescent coats with lilac fur trims, top hats with pheasant feathers, and reams of strap-on, faux-fox tails. Mothers drape themselves in the Christmas fairy lights, grandmothers opt for silver tinsel alice bands — and everyone packed a Schöffel to keep them warm at night.
Welcome to Wilderness, or ‘Poshstock’, as it is sometimes referred; a “four day party” of “wholesome hedonism”, where the boutique campsite (complete with a creche) is double the size of general, and the days are much more about four-hour long, wedding-style banquets and waiter service champagne hot tubs than musical acts.
The best selling bar at the festival was the Veuve Clicquot tent, where £500 magnums, and countless bottles of rosé were sipped. In previous years, it is where Florence Pugh and Jodie Comer held court. For 2024 the baton was handed to Miquita and Andi Oliver, Yesterday actor Himesh Patel, presenter Clara Amfo and, before her Sunday night headline performance, Jessie Ware.
Other hot contenders for best celebrity spotting was Audi’s space, where James Norton, Professor Green and Millie Mackintosh bunkered down, as well as the IHG Hotels & Resorts “Into the Wild” bash, graced by Sophie Turner and her aristo boyfriend Peregrine “Perry” Pearson, Cara’s sister Chloe Delevigne, Jaimie Winstone and dancer Eric Underwood.
Those not mown down by buggies enjoyed a surprise reading from Olivia Colman, who took part in the Letters Live performance. Other revellers took to stripping naked and running across a group cricket match. But the worst behaviour was to be found in “The Riddle” arena; new this year, it fills the elegant walled garden, and requires stickers on cameras before entrance. The Valley stage is an equally hedonistic magnet (not, I can assure you, of the aforementioned “wholesome” variety). This year, however, the volume was turned down and end time brought forwards, supposedly after some pearl clutching complaints from the Oxfordshire neighbours.
It is always alright for some, of course. The rules do not apply to parties unfolding in the estate’s Cornbury House, home of insurance billionaire David Howden, and his life-of-the-party wife Fiona, who have taken on the property on a 20-year lease from Lord Rotherwick.
Green lasers, smoke machines, disco balls and the double-barreled brigade filled the chapel-cum-rave-room (yes, really) — and the DJs thudded on until the very early hours.