The days tend to blur here at SXSW. The festival’s sponsors and participants are pouring information and alcohol in you everywhere you go. You forget that you are an autonomous being, not just a receptacle for emails and fliers and Sobe in small plastic cups and little goo bars that taste like chocolate stuck in carpet that are thrown — literally thrown — at you on every street corner.
Yesterday (Wed/17), however, was met with a distinct shift: awkward blue jeans and collared short sleeves were exchanged for tight black jeans and tattoo sleeves. Yes, music has come to town, which sends home the silicon boys (and a few girls), and officially ends the “interactive” portion of the festival. Austin’s Convention Center is no longer busy with necks stretched over tech, but with eyes scanning fashion and badges in order to discern the music artists from the look-a-likes. No longer am I getting stares for having an outdated laptop; rather, quick judgement looks assessing my dress and doppelgänger effect.
But this all comes with the territory of a major tech/film/music festival; everyone is trying to be seen and heard. Some more than others.