Bucket Hats, Baggy Jeans & 70,000 People Singing “Don’t Look Back In Anger”

Fashion with a capital (or expletive) ‘F’ happens to be at least one of the themes of the evening. Before hopping on the train, I make a risky stop at Alice & Olivia in Soho to grab a pair of baggy jeans with a sporty side stripe. They feel essential to pulling off my vision for attending the ’90s Brit-pop band’s reunion show in a look straight out of the Delia*s catalogues I used to flip through as a kid. When we scurry in, there’s only one pair of the pants left: a style that women of a certain age commonly refer to as "JNCO jeans." They just so happen to be my size. It’s a good omen for the rest of the evening’s events.

The first thing we notice as we inch closer to the stadium is how many fans are outfitted in Oasis merch (and as someone who attends at least three shows a week, I’m qualified to verify this fact). Much of this is probably due to the official fan store pop-ups that took place took place in major cities, in honor of the band performing in the states for the first time in 17 years. There’s also the band’s Adidas Originals collaboration, which is is so well made and effortlessly cool, you’d nab a jacket even if the band wasn’t in town. I, too, couldn’t resist the urge to slip into one of the pop-ups a week before the show, grabbing a black "Oasis Live 2025" halter and maroon Adidas zip-up with "The Band With The 3 Stripes" emblazoned on the back. (Later, I smugly inform someone in line for the bar, “Yeah … I got it at the pop up” when they asked which merch stand I lifted it from.)

At this point, you’re probably worried that I, the holder of a rare Oasis reunion ticket, was only here for the photo opp. I respect your speculation, so let me put your mind at ease. It was the band’s documentary, Supersonic, that I’d play on repeat circa 2017, when I decided to blow up my life in marketing and move to New York City to be a music journalist. It was Noel Gallagher’s otherworldly songwriting, Liam Gallagher’s vocals and indelible aura of cool, their audaciousness of being two kids from Manchester’s council estates creating rock and roll stardom from scratch, that wired my brainwaves into thinking anything was possible. It was Liam Gallagher telling his mom after they penned a deal with Creation Records, “All I want is to earn a bit of money and get myself new clothes"—three years before becoming one of the world’s biggest bands and playing two consecutive shows at Knebworth that were the largest outdoor shows in UK history at the time. It was them ignoring the tabloid fodder, naysayers, and (in some cases) laws, and saying whatever they wanted and looking damn good and dressing well while doing it. At the time, I didn’t think they’d ever reunite, but it was enough to make me think you could spark a career (and/or revolution) from your bed.

So, yes, I am the proud owner of a Pinterest board aptly titled "No one's gonna tell you what I'm on about," with fashion inspiration from the band’s heyday that not only I, but apparently everyone else in their small-frame sunnies, calf-high stockings, track pants, bandanas, and vintage tees adhered to that night in (as Liam said from the stage) “New York, New Jersey wherever the fuck we” were.

Watching them play near the city where I fell in love with their band while my dreams came to fruition was—and I don’t say this lightly—life-changing. Despite a historically contentious relationship with the states, Liam put us fans at ease: “We love coming here, it’s fucking beautiful,” he said. “But what we didn’t like is being told by … record companies, ‘You gotta play the game, kids, or you’ll be chopped liver. You gotta kiss some ass, or you’ll be chopped liver.’ But I can stand here tonight in front of you beautiful people, in this magnificent stadium, and tell ya, you don’t have to play the fucking game.” Chills.

So, you’ll forgive me for sobbing in a packed stadium, in an outfit prepubescent me would’ve died to wear, with a job she only dreamed of having, listening to a band told they’d never break America play a sold-out stadium show in one of its biggest cities. Noel, while teasing “Don’t Look Back In Anger,” shouts, “You might have wondered what it would be like to sing this next song with 60,000, 70,000 of your fellow Oasis fans, right? Now you’ll know what that feeling is like." Was it spiritual? Maybe. Biblical? Definitely. What more could you possibly ask—or dress—for?