A field
Real meadow, real wildflowers, mown paths, proper loos that flush, and a strict no-mud-misery policy.
Bee Prom — Saturday 14 June, 11am till the fireflies
Meadow is a roving one-day festival in a beautiful patch of grass — limited picnic blanket tickets, a 90-metre communal table, and a location we don't tell you until 48 hours before.
Somewhere within an hour of the city, in a meadow we've been quietly courting since March. Location drops to your inbox 48 hours out. Dress code: pollen-adjacent. Absolutely no lanyards.
Bee Prom · Sat 14 June · 11am–11pm · 400 people, 92 blankets
Revealed 48 hours before, by email and text, with parking and shuttle times.
Sold in blanket allotments from 2 to 8 people. Last year's sold out in nine days.
We rent a genuinely lovely patch of grass, string 600 metres of lights through it, book music that builds slowly, and feed every single person off one long table. Then we get out of the way and let the wildflowers do the marketing.
Real meadow, real wildflowers, mown paths, proper loos that flush, and a strict no-mud-misery policy.
One long communal table, one set menu, three courses, served at 4pm to everyone at once.
Gentle bangers till dusk, then a slightly less gentle two hours. Curfew 11pm because the sheep next door have rights.
Five dates, five fields, five faintly ridiculous themes. Tickets are sold per blanket, not per person, so bring the group you actually like. Field Club members get first look 72 hours before general release.
Corsages, honey cocktails, a slow-dance hour at sunset.
92 of 100 blankets gone.
Black tie, bare feet, antihistamines at the door.
61 of 100 blankets gone.
Lakeside meadow, swim at noon, negronis at three.
40 of 90 blankets gone.
Two nights under canvas, breakfast in the long grass.
120 pitches, 78 left.
Bonfire, cider, the season's final gentle banger.
Tickets open in July.
Daisy (2 people, £96) · Clover (4, £180) · Foxglove (6, £264) · Long Table (8 + reserved seats, £420).
Priced per blanket, not per person.
At 4pm, everything stops and 400 strangers sit down together for three courses cooked over fire fifty feet away — whole lamb or whole cauliflower, tomatoes from the farm we're standing on, something with elderflower in it. The bar runs on natural wine, meadow-herb spritzes, local cider and one very cold lager.
Will there be bugsIt's a meadow. Yes. We provide citronella, tick advice and a kind word.
What about rainWe run rain or shine with a 200-person canvas barn as backup. Full washout, and you get the next date or your money back.
Can I bring the dogOne well-behaved dog per blanket, on a lead, not on the table. Bring a bowl.
I have hay feverSo does half our crew. There's a free antihistamine bowl at the gate and a low-pollen seating area near the hedgerow.
Dietary stuffTell us at checkout. The veg menu is the same amount of effort, not an afterthought.
Getting thereShuttle buses from the nearest station every 20 minutes, both ways, included in your ticket.
Got a field, a brand, or a wedding? We build private meadows for 60 to 400 people — same lights, same long table, same suspiciously good sound. Landowners get a fee and their grass back better than we found it. Brands get a takeover, not a banner.
Weddings, birthdays and company days out from £8,000 all in. Tell us the date and the vibe.
Sponsor a course, a cocktail or the whole sunset. No pop-up gazebos, no branded lanyards, ever.
Five acres, road access and a nice view. We handle licences, loos, insurance and litter.
Pre-sale access 72 hours early, two guaranteed blankets a season, seed packets in the post, first dibs on merch.
Small runs of blankets, bucket hats, tea towels and wildflower seed tins. They go quickly and we don't reprint.
One email a month, plus the location reveal. That's the whole deal.
Drop your email for the location reveal, the blanket on-sale and one gently ridiculous newsletter a month.
Thanks — we'll be in touch. Check your inbox 48 hours before the gate opens.
One email a month, plus the location reveal. Absolutely no lanyards.
Photos from last summer: the 4pm table, the sunflower archway at Hay Fever Ball, someone's grandmother out-dancing the DJ, 300 people lying down in long grass at golden hour pretending it wasn't a bit emotional.