The front row at a concert is a sacred space. When you love an artist, you want to be as close to them as possible, without your view blocked by someone else’s hair. You hope the artist might pick you out of the crowd, form a deep and lasting connection, and end up marrying you. Or at least notice you.
Last month, Olivia Rodrigo revealed just how much she had noticed some of the fans lining the barriers at her shows. “People wear diapers so they can be front row,” she said, adding, to everyone’s absolute horror: “That’s been an experience as a performer that I have smelled.”
This isn’t a one-off. While genuine medical needs should be considered, things at the front have clearly gotten out of hand. Also last month, a video of a very stoic stadium worker cleaning up human waste at a Noah Kahan concert went viral, prompting Kahan to post on X: “If you have to poop at a show, please dear god just go to the bathroom lmao.” This week, a fan of US country star Morgan Wallen complained that he, his brother, and his niece were urinated on by another concertgoer, and police are investigating. Do we really need headlines like “Someone Also Shit Their Pants at a 5 Seconds of Summer Concert”? And in 2024, someone urinated on the floor of the standing area at a Sabrina Carpenter concert, causing a rush for a pretty horrifying item called a “pit diaper,” whose very existence points to a bigger problem.
Since the pandemic, when music lovers missed out on two years of live shows and young fans had to wait for their first concert experiences, those hard-earned front-row spots have become even more prized. The cost of VIP pit tickets has skyrocketed, stan culture has grown more intense, and the social media value of getting clear concert footage is at a premium, partly because surprise celebrity cameos—like Rosalía’s confession booth, Charli XCX’s Apple dance, or Sabrina Carpenter’s on-stage “arrests”—are now built into many pop shows. So, along with adult diapers, today’s barrier culture involves strict fan-run queue rules, cross-venue sprints, and specialized hydration systems.
Trying to find someone who would admit to even considering wearing a diaper, I went to Wembley Stadium on night 11 of Harry Styles’ recent 12-night Together Together residency. The dazzlingly sequined girls I spoke to, who were weathering a heatwave to queue for the last section of floor standing, were mostly horrified by the question. “I think that’s a bit ridiculous,” said Eloise, 23, who once queued for 10 hours to get the barrier at Harry’s last run of Wembley shows. What will you do if you need the toilet? I asked Shannon, who was hoping to sprint to the barrier when doors opened: “Hope for the best!”
Nineteen-year-old Keeley, who started queuing at 11am, said she “personally” wouldn’t wear a diaper. “That’s not for me. Especially in this heat. It’d feel really unnatural to pee just in front of everyone.”
But if you’re paying hundreds of pounds for a show and queuing for hours to be just meters from Rodrigo or Styles, it does make a twisted kind of sense that you might choose the diaper route rather than risk missing a song or losing your spot at the front. On TikTok, plenty of Swifties claimed to have worn one to the Eras tour (and with shows over three hours long, you’d assume even Taylor Swift took a bathroom break). But it’s hard to find anyone who will admit to a Guardian journalist that they wore a pit diaper to keep their prized front-row view.
When Katie, a seasoned Swiftie, planned her route to the Eras tour barrier, she skipped the idea of peeing herself in a crowd. Instead, she developed a hydration strategy that kept her show-ready but dry as a bone. “I drank loads of water the day before aThen, as soon as I got up at 4 a.m. to queue for the barricade, I had about two pints. I kept drinking until around midday, then stopped completely.” Energy gels, glucose tablets, and water handed over the barricade by security kept her from passing out – which would definitely mean losing your spot. “There’s no point getting barricade if you faint during the first era!” she added cheerfully.
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Taylor Swift performing in Amsterdam – hopefully not singling out a fan wearing a nappy. Photograph: Hollandse Hoogte/REX/Shutterstock
There’s a long tradition of people (mostly cis men, let’s be honest) peeing into pint glasses in crowds – and in one particularly horrifying Primavera crowd, directly onto my friend’s leg. Concerts by US psychedelic rockers Phish have become notorious for fans supposedly pooping without a care since an infamous incident in 2015. You can see how it might happen in a drunk festival crowd or somewhere drugs are being used freely. And maybe the Phish experience is so mind-blowing it lifts the listener beyond their own digestive system. More desperately, fans might argue they’re rejecting normal toilet rules as a countercultural move – though this behaviour is actually pretty mainstream: peeing was apparently common as far back as concerts by Frank Sinatra and the Beatles.
If you’re thinking of just letting go, the risk of it backfiring is huge. “I tried this with a sanitary pad and it didn’t work,” admits one concertgoer, who insists on staying anonymous for reasons that will soon become clear. Let’s call her Fiona. She and a friend had travelled to see Arctic Monkeys in Finsbury Park in 2014. Fiona was a lively 15-year-old who had got her hands on a bottle of rosé and reached the barrier right in front of where Alex Turner and the band were about to ask Do I Wanna Know? The answer here is a clear: no, you don’t.
“I was determined to stay there,” she says, bodily functions be damned. “I had some sanitary pads in my bag, so I thought I could discreetly pee into one. But it just overflowed because, unsurprisingly, pads can’t hold the amount of liquid from a rosé-induced wee.” With huge wet patches all down her black skinny jeans, she had to squeeze her piss-soaked way out of the crowd to find a portable toilet and sort everything out. “The worst part was, when I tried to push back to my spot, no one believed that my friend was waiting for me at the barrier.” It’s hard to believe that was really the worst thing about the situation.
Toilet troubles are one thing, but just “getting barrier” in the first place is a whole other story. The Harry Styles fans queuing in the heatwave had numbers written in Sharpie on the backs of their hands as part of a fan-run system meant to ensure that whoever queues the longest gets the best spots. It goes pretty far back in the queue, at least into the hundreds. The idea is that no one can push in – or at least that it’s obvious if they do – though no one was clear on what anyone would or could do about it.
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Fans show their queue numbers ahead of Harry Styles’ concert. Photograph: Hannah Cauhepe/The Guardian
There are some obvious flaws in this system. I could have written a number on the back of my hand and strolled to the front, and who could stop me? It’s an honour code that some people just don’t follow, even in England, the spiritual home of queuing. Videos of the walk into the stadiums for Styles’ shows often go viral on social media: the ones from the night I investigated had just as much panicked jostling and yelling as there would have been without the numbers.
Fans of all kinds have always staked out venues to sprint in and grab a spot at the front – the upcoming documentary Metallica Saved My Life shows the every-man-for-himself tactic of camping out then running in – but the newly organised, numbered, self-policing approach seems to have come from teenage girls. Anecdotal evidence suggests these “roll c”Alls,” as fans call them, started popping up in the mid-2010s. “Fans have always policed the order of the queue to get into the venue first,” says Hannah Ewens, author of Fangirls. In her book, she explains how the teen fangirl queue community has its own micro-communities, complete with influencers. The spirit of the community—driven by a deep love for the artist and the need for a decent view, since teenage girls are often among the shortest in any gig crowd—is all part of the quest to reach the barrier.
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Styles fans get ready to dash to the front. Photograph: Hannah Cauhepe/The Guardian
But while getting to the front has always been the goal, snagging a spot on the front row has also become more about clout. “TikTok has made it much more rewarding,” Ewens adds. “It’s ramped up the sense of competition.” Reaching the barrier could mean the difference between your concert videos going viral or disappearing into the digital void, which gives the numbering systems even more perceived importance. “Fandom is about being part of a community, but it’s also very hierarchical,” Ewens says. “Queuing scratches both itches for fans.”
Some artists have made it clear they won’t tolerate fan-run queue systems. For Bring Me the Horizon’s Manchester gig earlier this month—which had no barrier at all, just free-flowing rockers right up to the stage—the FAQs included a note: “Queueing will begin from 10am on show day… Fan numbering will not be acknowledged. The order of first entry will be selected at random.” The band and promoter declined to comment on the decision, and it’s unclear whether it had any effect on the crowd’s toileting habits.
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Fandoms are also starting to push back against fan-made queuing systems. Search Reddit or TikTok for this topic, and you’ll find just as many people rejecting it as participating. Louis Tomlinson introduced randomized wristbands for his shows earlier this year to remove the incentive to queue for hours. No matter when fans checked in, they were assigned a number that determined the order they could enter the pit. Venues like Wembley Stadium have also banned camping, making the process fairer for those who can’t afford to give up several days for it.
But despite the horrors of dirty nappies and enforced fan regimes, the barrier is generally a place of camaraderie. Friendships are made, and core memories are created. When a member of BTS tosses a worn T-shirt to a specific fan at the barrier, no one around them tries to grab it (even though you know they desperately want to). If fans need help or water, those nearby signal to security to fetch it. And some of the photos and footage from front-row fans at this summer’s stadium shows are of professional-level quality. Whatever they did to capture them is between them, God, and the nostrils of their favorite pop star. Even Fiona has no regrets: “It was worth it,” she says, 10 years after the wet jeans incident. “And I’m glad I have the story too.”
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs about the Pass the Pit diaper trend written in a natural tone with clear direct answers
BeginnerLevel Questions
Q What is Pass the Pit
A Its a nickname for a trend where fans at concertsespecially in the mosh pitwear adult diapers so they dont have to leave their spot to use the bathroom
Q Why would anyone wear a diaper to a concert
A To hold their spot in the front row or the pit If you leave to pee you lose your place and might not get it back
Q Is this a real thing or just a joke
A Its a real trend especially among dedicated fans at long shows It started as a joke but some people actually do it
Q Do people really pee in them during the show
A Yes some fans use them for their intended purpose Others just wear them as a backup in case they cant hold it
Q Is it safe to wear a diaper for hours in a crowd
A Its not ideal It can cause skin irritation rashes or discomfort especially if youre sweating or standing for a long time
Advanced Practical Questions
Q How long do you have to hold your spot for this to be worth it
A Usually 36 hours That includes waiting in line before doors open plus the opening acts and main show Some fans camp overnight so diapers become a necessity
Q What kind of diaper do people use for this
A Heavyduty adult incontinence briefs with high absorbency Some fans buy pullups for easier removal but they hold less
Q How do you change a diaper in a mosh pit without being seen
A You dont really change it Most people wear one and just go in it If they need a change theyd have to leave the pit and go to a bathroomdefeating the purpose
Q Is this allowed by concert venues
