Step Into the Light: A Journey of Self-Discovery at a Harry Styles Concert
Whoever said money doesn’t buy happiness has never been to a Harry Styles concert. As a grown woman who spent an irresponsible amount of money seeing Styles on the Love on Tour four times in three cities in ten weeks time, I can assure you this is true. Like Homer’s The Odyssey, it was an epic journey during which I experienced profound joy, fell in love with life, and found a way back to myself.
I never intended to see Harry Styles. I became a casual fan of the former One Direction breakout star during the beginning of the pandemic in 2020. Thanks to The Algorithm, I discovered “Sunflower, Vol. 6”, a psychedelic, beachy bop that hooked me instantly and became a go-to escape for when I needed to feel like I was anywhere but here. While I was charmed by the rest of his discography, it wasn’t enough to get me to buy a ticket to Love On Tour. Or so I thought.
At the risk of sounding like an old fuddy duddy, I have to admit: I hate arena concerts. They’re too expensive, parking is a hassle, and you practically need binoculars to see the performer. I much prefer the intimacy of an underground nightclub or a dive bar. But when I had the opportunity to tag along with a friend to see Styles at his Love On Tour stop in Washington, D.C., I would learn that there is no such thing as a Casual Harry Styles Fan. That night would change my life.
“Style is the answer to everything,” Charles Bukowski’s voice boomed over the speakers while neon, psychedelic bunnies flashed on the big screens. “To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art.”
Styles’ fandom takes this concept seriously. The number one rule of attending a Harry Styles concert is to dress like it’s your last night on Earth. When we arrived at Capital One Arena on a late summer night in mid-September, we saw swarms of fans dressed to impress in feather boas, hand-knit patchwork sweaters, and an occasional banana costume. I felt underdressed and out of place in my striped t-shirt, ripped jeans, and sneakers. Lucky for me, any feelings of outfit remorse quickly dissipated when Styles took the stage.
The crowd, over 20,000 fans made up of about 90% feral women, roared at the deafening, decibel-level of a plane taking off. I have never heard anything that loud in my life. Like magic, Styles emerged from below the stage dressed in lavender Gucci trousers, a floral silk shirt, and his signature suspenders. He was so beautiful; it was like staring into the sun.
“For the next 90 minutes, our job is to entertain each and every single one of you,” Styles said at the beginning of the show. “For the next 90 minutes, you also have one job, and that is to have as much fun as you possibly can. If you want to sing, if you want to dance, feel free to do whatever it is you want to do in this room tonight. Feel free to be whoever it is you want to be in this room tonight.”
Styles creates the ultimate safe space for his audience. Liberated by his challenge, everyone in the room dances like nobody is watching and sings like nobody is listening. There is an uninhibited flamboyance and euphoria that seems to naturally emanate from his fans. It’s an inspiring sight to behold — envying, almost — and it made me wonder why I haven’t felt that type of consuming joy since I was a kid.
The rest of the night felt like a fever dream. I spent the entire ninety minutes of Styles’ performance completely mesmerized and saved the existential crisis for later. By the end of the night, I evolved from Casual Harry Styles Fan to Unapologetic Harry Styles Stan.
That show changed my brain chemistry. Prior to experiencing Love on Tour I was depressed, lonely, and, worst of all — bored. I was constantly wondering who I was and who I wanted to be. Maybe it was the never-ending pandemic, the inevitable devastation of climate change, or just Millennial ennui, but I haven’t had that much good, clean fun in a long time. But life after Love On Tour felt more vibrant. It was like seeing colors in a world of grey. And there was no amount of money or no distance too far that would stop me from experiencing it again.
That show changed my brain chemistry.
After an entire week of obsessively refreshing Ticketmaster every waking hour, I scored front row seats to Styles’ third sold-out Love on Tour show at Madison Square Garden. Joining me would be another friend who thought Styles’ music ‘sounded chill’; I assured her that the concert was the exact opposite of chill. “You gotta see it to believe it,” I said. (Spoiler alert: her evolution into an Unapologetic Harry Styles Stan was swift and fierce.)
Never to be underdressed again, I bought a double-breasted cream-colored suit for the occasion — an outfit inspired by the Gucci trouser suit Styles wore when he performed “Landslide” with Stevie Nicks in 2019. When I tried on the outfit for my Instagram friends, who were now following my journey and cheering me on along the way, they hyped me up in such a way that unlocked a new level of self-confidence. Before now, I didn’t think I could pull off a gender-nonconforming style, but taking inspiration from Styles’ gender-bending wardrobe gave me the courage to finally be myself. That weekend, I cleaned out my closet and donated three bags of clothes that made me feel like I was trying to be anyone else but me.
Seeing Styles from the front row at Madison Square Garden was intoxicating. Dressed in a sheer, black blouse and cream-colored trousers, Styles admitted that Madison Square Garden was his favorite place to perform and that became obvious. He seemed larger than life that night and the arena was bursting at the seams with our collective energy, visibly shaking during his frenzied fan-favorite, “Kiwi”. But there was also a loving tenderness found in the quiet moments.
“Over the last eighteen months, everyone in here has been through something collectively, and every single one of us has been through something individually, and it was difficult,” Styles said before performing “Fine Line”, the title track from his second album. “But if there is anything I’ve learned from these last eighteen months, it’s that time with the people you love is the most important thing. Tell the people that you love that you love them. Tell the person next to you that you love them. It is Love On Tour after all. And if we just have each other’s backs, I think we’ll be alright.”
The lights dimmed, the dance pits on the floor calmed to a gentle sway, and cell phone flashlights illuminated the arena like a beautiful night sky. As I scanned the crowd, some with tears in their eyes, I realized this was not only a safe space to be ourselves, but also an intimate space of healing. I could feel it happening within me, too.
We couldn’t help ourselves; just a few days later, we bought tickets to see Styles at Harryween, a two-night Fancy Dress Party at Madison Square Garden on Halloween weekend. To satiate my appetite, I resorted to The Algorithm once again to watch live streams of Love on Tour stops across the country and video clips of endearing crowd interactions. I discovered an entire community of Harry Styles fans, affectionately known as The Harries, many of whom have social media accounts dedicated to dissecting his every move.
After diving into the deep end of the Harry Styles fandom, I started to feel like a Harry, too. This fandom was something special, like having thousands of best friends. Together, we tried to guess color outfit he was going to wear each night and he if was going to perform “Medicine,” an unreleased pansexual anthem cut from his debut album. When Marvel announced Styles was joining the MCU as Eros, the brother of Thanos and the god of love and sex (HELLO?!), we lost our minds. When Styles announced his new beauty brand, Pleasing, we sold out the pre-sale. If that sounds crazy, it’s probably because it is. But man, as a Corporate Millennial, it nearly saved my soul to have something to look forward to each night after work that wasn’t just cooking, cleaning, or mindlessly scrolling until I passed out.
Styles delivered another deadly blow to toxic masculinity during Harryween. On the first night, he dressed up as Judy Garland’s Dorothy. Frolicking around the stage in red tights, ruby red Gucci slippers, and rosy cheeks, Styles caught a glimpse of himself on the big screen and said, “I look cute!”
There’s something about a boy in fancy dress that is quite enchanting. Fully committed to the fandom, my friend and I half-joked about getting Styles-inspired tattoos on the day of our Harryween show. Next thing I know, a guy dressed up as Spiderman is tattooing my forearm with ‘have the time of your life,’ a line from Styles’ debut single from his first solo album and a permanent reminder of why I’m doing all of this.
On the second night of Harryween, Styles showed up as a sad, Pierrot clown in a ruffled, Gucci clown costume with delicate pearls glued to his face, but he was pure joy personified. During the high-energy singalong, “Treat People With Kindness” — Styles’ mantra and my favorite song — he sprinted across the stage waving a transgender pride flag while the crowd of 20,000 fans blissfully jumped in unison. Like, I said, you gotta see it to believe it. But to experience it is one of the best feelings in the world. Styles really created a place for us to feel good.
That was my last night of Love on Tour — or so I thought. I could barely make it another two weeks without being stricken with a crushing sense of boredom. Styles was still touring around the U.S., and everybody was having more fun than me. But the bitter end was near; he was closing in on his final show of the tour in Long Island, New York. I swore up and down I wouldn’t go, fantasizing about saving my money for a trip to see him in Europe next year. But one morning I caved, said to hell with it all and bought more tickets. After all, money is fake; Harry Styles is forever.
My Instagram friends, who probably thought I was completely psychotic (but in an endearing way, maybe), helped me pick out my outfit again. We settled on another gender-nonconforming outfit — brown trousers, a Harry Styles Fine Line tee, suspenders, and a blue, plaid shacket — inspired by a similar outfit he once wore. I felt beautiful and confident for the first time in a long time.
After 42 shows over three months, Styles closed out Love on Tour with an inaugural performance at Long Island’s UBS Arena. When I heard Bukowski’s voice boom over the speakers again, my stomach was instantly tied in knots. Styles magically emerged from below the stage one last time, dressed in a gold fringe vest and black trousers with his signature butterfly chest tattoo fully exposed.
“Good evening and welcome to the final night of Love on Tour. I’m Harry Styles.”
I couldn’t believe I ever thought about skipping this show; it was one of the best nights of my life. Everyone in that room, Styles included, left nothing on the table. He offered a rare performance of “Medicine” and a feverish finale of Kiwi — three times in a row. Throughout the night, adrenaline coursed through my veins and I felt so alive. We scream-sang at the top of our lungs and danced like it was our last night on Earth.
“What you have shared with us every single night, emotionally you have been so, so generous to me,” Styles said in a tearful goodbye. “And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really did not know if this tour was going to happen and I thank you for everything you’ve done to be able to be here tonight. This is my favorite thing to do and I only get to do it because of each and every one of you.”
The next day, back home in Baltimore, I cried in a Trader Joe’s parking lot. Love on Tour was over and I didn’t know how to — nor did I want to — return to a life without Styles in it. I am not the same person that I was when I lucked into seeing him in D.C. ten weeks ago. Since then, he’s inspired me to live fearlessly, authentically, and whole-heartedly. I feel brave and radiant and a little kinder. And, most importantly, I am so happy. Every second I spent traveling, hunting for tickets, or in line for merch; every penny I spent on an overpriced Platinum ticket, a last-minute hotel room, or clothes that finally made me feel like me; it was all worth it. I had the time of my life.
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