Over the Years: The Evolution of Coachella Fashion

Written By: Flora Breitbard

Then…

Later…

Now

What we could get back to…

Coachella began in 1999 as an alternative music festival in the California desert—more grunge than glam, with a crowd that cared way more about the music than what they were wearing. But over the past two decades, it’s transformed into one of the most photographed, talked-about, and influencer-heavy events of the year. The music’s still there, but the outfits? That’s what really gets the attention.

There was a golden age—somewhere between 2012 and 2016—when Coachella fashion had a real identity. It was loud, playful, and very boho. Think flower crowns, crochet, fringe, body chains, and ripped denim. It was peak Tumblr-core: sun-bleached, carefree and centered around individuality, not clout. Vanessa Hudgens virtually became the face of the festival. Her looks were over the top in the best way: barefoot in the grass, layered jewelry, hair that probably hadn’t seen a brush in days. It was messy, personal and individualistic. 

But around 2017, things started to shift. Enter: the Kardashian-Jenners. Their influence brought a different energy—more polished, more curated, and a lot more designer. Think Kim in neutral bodycon with full glam, or Kendall and Kylie in custom looks that felt straight out of an editorial shoot. It marked a new phase of Coachella fashion: less boho, more influencer. The lines between music festival and fashion week started to blur.

Then came the YouTubers.

By 2018–2019, influencers like James Charles and Tana Mongeau were treating Coachella like a runway. James flaunted a full mesh bodysuit with heels, glitter everywhere, and a face beat to perfection. It wasn’t boho; it was high-glam cosplay. Katy Perry also had her own moment during this time, showing up in cartoonish, hyper-styled outfits that were more costume than festival fit. Coachella wasn’t about music anymore—it was about being seen.

This year? It felt kind of lifeless.

Most of the looks from influencers and celebs were entirely one brand. Sponsored outfits were everywhere—matched sets, neutral tones, designer accessories that looked straight off the runway, not like they belonged at a sweaty music festival in the desert. The whole festival felt like a paid partnership with a lack of personality.

That’s not to say there weren’t a few standouts. An influencer named Darianka, for example, leaned into the boho revival with a mix of lace, mini shorts and low-rise everything. It felt like a nod to early Coachella—before everything needed to be brand-safe and camera-ready. A TikToker (@unaestheticsurferpearlz) documented herself thrifting all of her outfits and camping out in her van. While this might not be the universal experience of Coachella, this is its vibe at the core. There is definitely a happy medium between self-expression, Palm Springs style, music appreciation and the influencer's requirement to soak up views and partner with brands. And honestly, that energy might be on its way back. Fashion is just one big pendulum; trends always repeat, and at this point, people are getting tired of looking like walking Pinterest boards.

Maybe next year will be different. Maybe the best looks will come from people who aren’t thinking about engagement, but about how they feel in what they’re wearing. Coachella used to be about personal style, not personal branding. Maybe next year we’ll see less curation and more chaos. More comfort. More weirdness. Maybe Vanessa was onto something.

Edited by Hana Razvi, Simran Khanuja & Olivia Ruetten