Words and Photography by Phoebe O’Brien
From sequins to tartan, sunglasses to statement fans, Melbourne’s festival-goers turned Flemington Racecourse into a living mood board of self-expression, proving that at Laneway, style is as essential as the music.
by Tom Grut
On a sunny 21 degree Melbourne day at Flemington Racecourse, Laneway Festival spread across the grass like a sunlit catwalk, far from its scrappy 2005 indie beginnings. By early afternoon, the grounds were shining. Sequins caught the sun, sunglasses perched low, ‘clean-girl’ slicked-back buns held firm and cowboy boots ruled the field. Bright pink sliced through Melbourne’s classic black aesthetic like a highlighter across a textbook page. Pleated plaid, denim miniskirts and micro shorts flashed past bralettes layered with sheer mesh tops. Graphic baby tees, cinched belts and playful textures created a kaleidoscope of festival fashion.
Last year’s brat green gave way to this year’s pink, all thanks to Missouri goddess Chappell Roan. Even the official Laneway crew tees got the pink memo.
Chappell Roan didn’t just headline the festival; she styled it. Her ethereal, theatrical presence set the tone from the second she appeared on stage: glittery blue eyelids lit by the stage lights as her long, wavy red hair gently whipped in the wind. Draped in Alexander McQueen styled by Genesis Webb, with luminous make-up by LA artist Dee Carrion, Chappell’s look was romantic and haunting.
Icy, porcelain-matte skin framed glossy, deep plum-brown lined lips, softened by a cool-toned blush. Lace, a high ruffled neckline and a dramatic veil added a subtle gothic bridal edge. Chappell is a naturally captivating performer. Every movement was magnetic, set against a fantastical, castle-like stage that made watching her feel like stepping into a dream.
The Roan ripple effect was clear. Pink cowboy hats bobbed through the crowd, rhinestones working overtime, as festival-goers dressed for the artists, the music and for each other. We swayed to Casual, cheered to Hot To Go!, sang along perfectly to The Giver, then cried to my personal favourites, The Subway and Coffee. She’s right, by the way, ‘it’s never just coffee.’
Watching her live was unreal. Chappell was watching us too, even spotting someone in the crowd wearing her high school shirt. The punter had followed Roan to Melbourne from her hometown, Willard, Missouri, just to see the 90-minute set. “Long way to follow me, eh?” Roan remarked. Femininomenon was the anthem of the night, and she closed with Pink Pony Club — every note and dot of pink making you feel part of something truly special.
Earlier in the day, Jensen McRae took the Dean Turner Stage as the afternoon sun beamed down, making her heartache-filled songs feel slightly at odds with the open-air festival chaos.
She wore an emerald-green linen Regina dress by Jillian Boustred. Handmade in Sydney and cut to flatter her silhouette, it moved with her in the breeze. Around Jensen, the audience mirrored her gentle elegance, wrapped in muted tones and delicate textures.
Hearing Massachusetts live, a tender, anecdotal reflection on a past relationship and its impact on her thoughts and feelings, was incredible, especially after having first caught the track in its early days on TikTok back in 2023.
Then the energy pivoted.
The Dare, aka Harrison Patrick Smith, delivered drama in a sharp designer suit, crisp white shirt, skinny black tie, slim trousers and leather boots — likely Saint Laurent Wyatt from Hedi Slimane’s post-2012 era. Dark sunglasses completed his iconic look, but will we ever get a glimpse of the real Harrison behind them? Inside the ‘Everything Ecstatic’ tent, it felt like 3 am downtown New York (I imagine), transplanted into a late Melbourne afternoon.
I love the silliness and cockiness embodied in Smith’s song Cheeky. The lyric ‘I’m so cheeky, I’m like he-he, you’re like ha-ha-ha’ perfectly captures his ability to poke fun at himself while remaining playful and unrestrained.
He tore across the stage, limbs loose, hair falling forward, strobing LEDs catching on his silver hoop earring, the kind that evokes a yearning similar to Paul Mescal’s hoop in Hamnet or Jacob Elordi’s in Wuthering Heights.
Fan favourite Girls pulsed while the sky was still light blue, transforming the space into a warehouse-party vibe. It was a riot. Sweaty, fun and irresistibly danceable, channeling the raw energy of What’s Wrong With New York?
This appetite extended beyond the festival gates. At Smith’s Freakquencies afterparty at 170 Russell, with Geese and Wet Leg on DJ duties before he re-emerged, it was clear the city was not ready to go home. Melbourne still wanted to dance into the wee hours. The Dare’s recent remix of Wet Leg’s Mangetout was a highlight, proving the buzz of the festival could extend late into the night.
Across the day, other style narratives were on full display. Role Model, aka Tucker Pillsbury, leaned fully into his denim heartthrob status, his soft Americana charm drawing screams from the barricade. Fans accessorised with sunglasses, bandanas, scarves, some even layering pink and plaid, the latter nodding to the Y2K-inspired energy of PinkPantheress.
Rhian Teasdale from Wet Leg appeared as Sally during Role Model’s viral hit Sally, When the Wine Runs Out. Fans even sported “Sally” name badges and DIY t-shirts bedazzled with the name, hoping to catch Tucker’s eye and be his Sally for the day.
Crowds sprinted back to the tent for Brit Awards Producer of the Year PinkPantheress, who ‘looked a million bucks’ in a tartan bralette, layered necklaces and black pants with tartan detailing. Fully embracing a playful, early-2000s aesthetic. Festival-goers responded with their own mix of prints, textures and layered styling, continuing the day’s dialogue between stage and street. During Pink’s set, the tent and its surrounds filled quickly, reaching capacity, a testament not just to her hit songs and impeccably produced pop diva tunes, but also to her personality, viral TikTok moments and the sheer cultural force she has become.
Here’s hoping PinkPantheress returns for more Aussie solo shows. Ideally, up close and personal at somewhere like Melbourne’s Forum Theatre. A girl can dream.
by Kelsey Doyle
And then there was the unexpected accessory of the day, the resurrection of the fan. It appeared first as practicality, relief from the sun, then as a prop. One girl drifted past in a sheer asymmetrical Grecian white dress, amber sunglasses, lemon-yellow bag tucked tight beneath her arm. Her white fan read “Where is my husband?” Her friend wore a sheer brown mesh top, with red lace thigh-high tights beneath a black mini skirt, holding a crimson fan declaring “Mate of Honour.”
Sometimes the most compelling performance isn’t on stage, it’s the faces shimmering back at it. Friends sang together, in curated, thrifted outfits that slayed. Even as feet ached and makeup melted, the energy never faded. Laneway 2026 revealed that style and sound are inseparable. Fashion is identity, artistry and performance, and Melbourne showed up unapologetically. At Laneway, the runway isn’t reserved for the stage. It’s alive in the crowd, where every outfit tells a story, inspired by the artists and nodding to the festival’s spirit. Every bold, deliberate look declares, this is me — just don’t show up in ‘fugly jeans’.
