This past weekend, Hyde Park became a swarm of pink for Sabrina Carpenter and her double-headed BST takeover — the global supernova’s first truest sign of transcendence on British soil.
Photography – Jordan Hughes and Alfredo Flores
A summery weekend in London leaves a gregarious socialite with a plethora of entertainment options. The Saturday just gone, 5th July, carried a particular abundance of potential endeavours in the capital. It was, of course, Pride, meaning the streets of central were awash with rainbow colours, the sense of celebration humming melodiously in the balmy breeze. Wimbledon is in full flow, as is the Women’s World Cup — although it was a disappointing start for Leah and the Lionesses. Seemingly every large patch of grass held a festival of some ilk — whether Battersea’s amiable jazz festival or Fontaines D.C. and half the Irish population invading Finsbury Park.
All of this sounds wonderful, it truly does. But for a Wonderland writer, there was only one place to be — in Hyde Park with the world’s biggest pop star.
Sabrina Carpenter, after bubbling just beneath the glistening surface for nearly a decade, found herself at pop culture’s apex with last year’s sixth (yes, sixth, a testament to perseverance it must be said) studio album, Short n’ Sweet, which boasted some of the most popular songs of the summer — “Please Please Please” and “Espresso” to name but two. Since, she won multiple Grammys, toured Europe, and made up one third of Primavera’s powerpuff headliners. Strike whilst the iron’s hot, as they say.
Now, as part of BST Hyde Park’s enviable summer 2025 line up — which also has dates with headliners such as Olivia Rodrigo, Stevie Wonder, Neil Young & more — Sabrina sold out her 65,000 strong slot so quickly that a second day, Sunday 6th, was added. It’s a monumental achievement for an artist who was firmly in the supporting cast for BLACKPINK’s adjacent show only two years prior.
So — will Sabrina put her money (and mic) where her mouth is and deliver one of London’s most quintessential shows of the summer? Who better to judge than a self-confessed Carpenter cynic? The Great Wall of Wariness himself: me.
It’s Saturday, mid-afternoon, and Central London is packed. Emerging from Green Park tube station has you shepherded towards the Parade, which has closed roads and resulted in an awfully difficult time getting around. Still, after taking shelter at a nearby back-street boozer to wet the whistle and converse with a — shall we say — eccentric middle-aged German man, we make our way to the park just in time for the first of two major support acts.
Photography – Jordan Hughes and Alfredo Flores
Beabadoobee is no stranger to the biggest stages, having supported The 1975 and Taylor Swift, and nestles cosily in an all-female line-up that also featured Amber Mark, SOFY and Sola earlier in the day. The Philippines-born, London-based singer-songwriter brings an engaging effervescence with a cheeky twist, sporting the word ‘SEX” in pink on her t-shirt. “I wore this top especially for Sabrina,” she winks.
After a quick visit to the park’s second stage for the theatrical heart-rendering of Liverpudlian singer-songwriter Luvcat, Clairo takes to the stage. And what a treat it is. Ethereal yet deeply human, her music is dreamlike and groovy, a paper-mache masquerade of maverick majesty and subtle self-observation. “Man, there are so many of you I’m freaking out,” she admits, almost under her breath, between kaleidoscopic cuts from her fantastic 2024 album, Charm.
Before getting into the nitty gritty of the headline set, I just wanted to give a shout out to all those mums and dads out there who brought your teenage daughters (and often a large handful of their closest friends) along to see their favourite pop star. You stand, arms crossed, lightly swaying to the music — at least the few singles you heard on BBC Radio 2’s breakfast show. You are patient and noble, thinking of your children’s joy rather than your own Saturday night knee-deep in a third rewatching of Mad Men. I commend you — you’re better people than me.
Photography – Jordan Hughes and Alfredo Flores
Throughout the day, I’d been unimpressed by the tepid crowd, but it becomes clear that they came for one act alone. Frantic, fervent screams welcome the bijou figure to the Great Oak stage, decked out in a glitzy, glamorous red onesie sporting her forename front-and-centre. The following 18-track set-list flies by — cinematic, pristine, carefully curated, Carpenter’s pop maximalism is tuned up to the highest voltage, a paradigm of performance, a sonic gallery sprawling from intimate balladry to soaring anthems, backed by a 12-person dance troupe.
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Look, you’re never going to catch me singing “Manchild” in the shower. I’m never going to be one of the Sabrinators. But at Hyde Park, Carpenter showed why she sits atop pop music’s summit, with multifarious musical gems and a gargantuan star power. Should she have headlined Glastonbury? That’s for others to debate, I’m staying out of this one.
sabrina carpenter
Words – Ben Tibbits
Photography – Jordan Hughes and Alfredo Flores
