Face the music: The outdoor concert standby of cutoffs and mud-splattered Wellingtons was the tune of mid-2000s Glastonbury, but the times are a-changing. Now, the real show has moved offstage, and festivals have become the newest stomping ground for the rock stars of the fashion world. Dressing for SXSW or Bonnaroo is a performance in itself. Neon face paint, parasols, feathered headdresses, flower crowns and an overabundance of tie-dye have all made appearances at festivals with equally mythical lineups of musicians and concertgoers. Although we’re often compelled to follow these songfests from afar (#quartersystemproblems), we’ll always have Dillo Day. Some preliminary don’ts: Don’t stay grounded. Skip the stilettos unless you’re receiving monetary compensation for aerating the lawn. If you insist on spindly footwear, try a low-slung, stacked-heel cowboy boot, but know anything wobblier than a wedge or flatform is just going to prevent you from jumping and fist-pumping past the first set. Don’t forget to use protection. An inadvertent raccoon eye and melty lipstick look unkempt, so choose long-wearing formulas: waterproof mascara, stage makeup-grade cream shadows layered over primer and no-movement cheek and lip stains. And don’t even think about foregoing regular sunscreen applications and a pair of inexpensive (so you won’t be too heartbroken if you lose them) shades. Skin cancer and crow’s feet are never in. Don’t overexpose yourself. Show some skin, but no one wants to provide entertainment of the wardrobe-malfunction variety. Look to Dree Hemingway, my pick for best-dressed Coachella attendee, for a lesson in refined midriff-baring. The model counteracted a Dolce & Gabbana chili pepper-patterned bustier with a matching high-waisted dirndl, uncovering only a few inches of sculpted abdominals. Other takes: Cutout frocks equal built-in ventilation, as do muscle shirts with generous arm holes. Relaxed fits and natural fabrics will also keep you cool when the temperature rises. Music festivals are quasi-costume parties, so don’t be afraid to push the boundaries. Unlike most other venues, Dillo Day permits normally “preternaturally stylish” girls and boys to seem like they’ve put effort, thought and research into their ensembles. Contrived is OK. Go as a historically correct hippie draped in handmade daisy chains, a punk in distressed denim and studded Converse or as a beribboned woodland nymph. For the glamorous, a fit-and-flare polka-dot dress made for a ’50s pinup stands out from the (grungy, sweaty) crowd. What do I consider the most striking option of all? If you’re willing to foot the dry-cleaning bill, adopting Terence Koh’s immaculate all-white suits could land you on some street-style blogs, too. Dillo Day promises near-summer, end-of-the-school-year merriment, but it’s also a celebration of youth: What it means to be uninhibited, to be hopeful, to have a lifetime of good music and fulfilling experiences ahead of you. Be safe this Dillo Day, but don’t ever live – or dress – timidly.