At Mighty Hoopla, everyone’s favourite West End Girl turned Brockwell Park into the world’s biggest thirty-something group therapy session. And we happily signed up for treatment.

Long before TikTok turned bedroom dances into a career path, there was Lily Allen. In the late 2000s, the Hammersmith-born singer became some kind of patron saint of messy British girlhood – all gold hoops, razor-sharp one-liners and songs about nasty boyfriends, bad decisions and even worse mornings after. For a generation of millennials (and zillennials, hello!), Allen challenged the norm of what a pop star looked like, proving that the girls could be hot, funny, flawed and heartbreakingly honest all at once.

Nearly two decades later, that sentiment remains startlingly intact. On a sun-drenched Saturday at Mighty Hoopla, London’s annual pilgrimage for pop obsessives and nostalgia addicts alike, Allen took to the stage for one of the biggest performances of her West End Girl era. And within seconds of her opening notes, Brockwell Park shape shifted into a giant group therapy session for thirty-somethings.

Released last year to widespread acclaim, West End Girl finds Allen returning to familiar territory – heartbreak, humiliation and the complicated emotional debris left behind by love. Written in the aftermath of a very public split, the record is among her most vulnerable work, peeling back her supercharged witbank to reveal something far rawer.

That spirit carries into the live show. Presented almost theatrically, the production unfolds closer to a one-night-only stage performance than a conventional pop concert. Allen glides across a prop-filled set in lace-trimmed looks (a lot of it YSL, of course) and towering heels, playing the album front to back as she serves as the ultimate West End leading lady. Rather than opening with her greatest hits, a small string ensemble performs instrumental versions of classics including “Smile”, “Not Fair” and “Fuck You” while lyrics flash across giant screens. The audience takes over vocal duties, transforming thousands of concert-goers into a giant nostalgia-fuelled karaoke choir. It’s camp, it’s clever and, most importantly, it works.

When Allen announced she’d be bringing the West End Girl format to the festival circuit, some fans wondered whether it would translate outside a venue setting. Wouldn’t we all rather hear Lily herself belt out the songs that soundtracked our adolescence? As it turns out, not necessarily.

There’s something surprisingly moving about hearing an entire field of people scream those lyrics back at one another instead. The songs no longer belong solely to Allen. They’ve become shared cultural property, tied to first kisses, disastrous relationships, nights spent crying on buses and one too many drunk cigarettes.

Mighty Hoopla also provides the perfect backdrop to her organised chaos. The UK’s biggest queer pop festival has long mastered the art of balancing irony-free fun with a lineup that reads like a buffet of beloved names from across the pop spectrum. Jessie J at sunset? Absolutely. Yet even among a stacked bill, Allen felt like the weekend’s emotional centrepiece.

The crowd erupted as the bossa nova-inflected title track kicked off, madly asked “Who the hell is Madeline?”, and reached peak hysteria as Allen welcomed JADE to the stage for the live debut of their new collaboration, “Beg For Me (Remix)”. Suddenly, we were witnessing two generations of British pop excellence collide in real time.

Looking around the crowd, it was difficult to remember the last time I’d seen so many people in such state of ecstasy. Friends clung to one another, strangers shouted lyrics in each other’s faces and entire friendship groups dissolved into fits of laughter between songs. For sixty minutes, adulthood briefly disappeared. That’s the real magic of Lily Allen in 2026, I think. Not simply that she’s back, but that she still understands exactly what her audience needs from her. West End Girl may be rooted in heartbreak, but live, it becomes something else entirely – a celebration of survival, friendship and finding humour in the wreckage.

For one weekend in Brixton, Allen administered the millennial cure. Judging by the state of the crowd afterwards, it worked. And as far as summer kick-offs go, Mighty Hoopla remains the gold standard.

Words – Sofia Ferreira