A new trend is emerging among those in their 40s: returning to the dance floor and revisiting the vibrant rave culture of the late 1990s. For many, including Fern Greig-Moore, this revival is a response to the mundane routines of adulthood, as they seek to reclaim the joy and freedom of their youth.
Reflecting on her past, Greig-Moore reminisced about the days of “glitter hair gel, fluoro crop tops, and flared jeans,” recalling the underground raves that pulsated through Melbourne’s car parks and warehouses. These events, rich in electronic dance music, provided an escape from daily life. “No mobile phones, no parental surveillance, just unadulterated electronic dance music,” she noted, capturing the essence of those exhilarating gatherings.
As adulthood set in, however, the vibrant rave scene faded. Many transitioned into traditional roles, taking on jobs, starting families, and navigating the complexities of life. Greig-Moore described this shift as a gradual departure from carefree revelry to the responsibilities of adulthood. “We took out loans, wore ill-fitting suit jackets, and worried about grass seeds for our lawns,” she explained.
On the eve of her 40th birthday, Greig-Moore launched what she called “Operation Midlife,” a mission to embrace life more fully. This included health check-ups and a commitment to revive her raving days. She decided to attend age-appropriate clubs and festivals, aiming to dance once every six months, a pact designed to reignite her passion for music and movement.
Each event brought together like-minded individuals, often in their 40s and 50s, who shared a similar nostalgia. At a recent festival set in picturesque rolling hills and vineyards, thousands danced in unison, creating a sense of community. “There were no inebriated belligerent idiots here, just politely intoxicated or sober grown-ups,” Greig-Moore observed, highlighting the maturity that many attendees brought to the experience.
The lack of chaos and the enjoyment of the music were refreshing. Security personnel, seemingly uninterested in the crowd, stood by as attendees relished the atmosphere without fear of conflict. Greig-Moore noted that the memories created at these events were clear and cherished, a stark contrast to the tumultuous experiences of her youth.
In addition to festivals, Greig-Moore discovered a local street art exhibition that offered a surprise rave experience. Following a friend to a hidden room, she found herself engulfed in deep red lighting and pounding bass, where she clocked over 15,000 steps on her pedometer. “The cardio alone was worth it,” she said, acknowledging the physical benefits of rediscovering her love for dance.
Despite her enthusiasm, Greig-Moore is aware of the changes that come with age. “Going to bed is not dissimilar to heading into battle,” she quipped, referring to the nightly rituals that now include nasal strips and humidifiers. Her partner humorously suggests that an adjustable electric bed could be in her future.
Yet, Greig-Moore remains committed to her raving journey, determined to celebrate life with music and movement. As she prepares for the new year, she envisions dancing in her kitchen, much to the horror of her children, while embracing the joy of life in her 40s.
Through her experiences, Greig-Moore illustrates that raving is not merely a pastime for the young but can also be a fulfilling mode of expression for those in midlife. The revival of the dance floor offers a unique opportunity to connect with one’s past while embracing the present, proving that age does not have to hinder the spirit of celebration and community.
