Harry Styles: Love on Tour
By Sarah Fournell
If you were packed tight in one of the green line trains on Monday, October 25, you were most likely extremely confused by the wild outfits crammed next to you, or you were on your way to a show. The distinct styles of the passengers made it clear who was coming with me to see Harry Styles at TD Garden, and who was getting off to rock the Royale with 100 gecs. The floor of North Station was littered with feathers and glitter, the pathways to the venue clearly marked by Harry’s excited and dedicated followers.
And by dedicated, I mean hopelessly and unwaveringly devoted. I spoke to a buzzing girl from New Jersey who came to Boston just for Styles, and camped out on the street for 13 hours to get a good spot in “The Cherry Pit.” Her proclamation was met by a chorus of “worth it’s” from the other merch line dwellers. I have truly never been in a more uplifting environment than in the bathroom in the venue. Girls enthusiastically hyped each other up, from their groovy pants to their exquisite makeup. Strangers shared which songs they were most excited to hear, and deliberated over what outfit He would be wearing.
Jenny Lewis, a glitter-clad embodiment of Stevie Nicks with a country twang, warmed up an already blazing hot crowd. She trailed a light pink microphone cable behind her as she sauntered around the stage, singing about being in her 40’s, and belting tributes to her dog, Bobby Rhubarb. With a pair of glittery bunny ears to match her evening gown, she breathed a melancholy nostalgia into each tantalizing track performed. She was escorted off the stage by someone in a large pink bunny suit and sunglasses. What an exit.
Just the dimming of the house lights set the crowd in an egregious uproar. The screaming started when the band took the stage in pastel baby blue and purple colorways, and did not stop until the lights rose again at the end of the show. Styles, in baby blue trousers with suspenders to match, emerged from the center of the round stage, which had two protruding catwalks that led to each end of the venue. With microphone stands at each end of the stage, Styles was able to properly greet his fans from all sides.
After possessing the crowd with “Golden,” Styles made the disclaimer that “This is a family show.” With a slink down the stage he amended his statement with “...Or is it?” followed by the opening notes of “Carolina.” Those three words, followed by talk of “good girls” and a fan that he “met once and wrote a song about” completely shattered all hopes of a “family show” environment. Instead, fantasies of a Wattpad-esque moment with Styles manifested in screams of the highest decibel I heard all night.
Every one of his movements left the audience completely and utterly enchanted. From a simple glance to any spot in the venue, it was apparent that nearly every audience member was captivated with his flirty charisma and overwhelming sex appeal. Even the most stone-faced dads were left with no choice but to fall victim to his charm, their demeanors rapidly changing from “I was forced to be here” to “how high can I swing this purple feather boa over my head?”. Styles’ devilish smile and carefully curated winks disclosed that he knew the power he wielded over his crowd.
His comprehensive setlist consisted of tracks from his newest album Fine Line and fan favorites from his first solo venture, the self-titled Harry Styles. Throughout his set, he performed his classic goofy dance moves and interacted with fans with crazy posters. He acknowledged one that said “I just got into med school” followed by another that said “I skipped school to be here.”
As he danced, dodged and weaved through the many gifts that fans threw on stage, including flowers, silly hats, and a sunflower mask that he donned during his performance of “Sunflower vo. 6.”
I have considered myself to be a pretty loyal Harry Styles fan for about 11 years, starting with his time in One Direction. I’ve watched him successfully graduate from boyband bubblegum pop to a charming rockstar. Although he’s always possessed an innate musicality, I’ve watched him hone it to perfection, attributed to his unmistakable rise in confidence level. He exuded pure joy and freedom during his performance of “Lights Up.” It was apparent that the line “I’m not ever goin back” is a line he lives by. In all aspects, he’s a performer. He’s broken out of the box he was put into, and onto a stage that he’s set for himself.