Forest Hills Concert Bag Policy

So there I was, last summer, absolutely glowing with excitement to see Father John Misty at Forest Hills Stadium. I had my perfect little concert bag—a vintage fringed suede number I’d found at a flea market. It was just big enough for my phone, a lip balm, and maybe a secret granola bar.

Then I hit the security line. The nice but stern guard looked at my bag, then at me, and said, “Sorry, ma’am, that’s a no-go.” I literally watched my concert dreams deflate faster than a last-night-of-tour balloon arch. I ended up stuffing my fringed treasure into a sad plastic trash bag for the coat check and spending the whole show paranoid about my stuff.

You do not need to make that same mistake. Trust me, I’ve taken one for the team. Let’s talk about the Forest Hills Stadium bag policy so your night is all about the music, not about a rogue security guard confiscating your favorite crossbody.

The golden rule: size really does matter

Forest Hills is strict—I mean airport-level strict—about bag dimensions. The official rule is that your bag must be no larger than 12” x 6” x 12”. That’s about the size of a standard sheet of paper lying flat.

So your chic tote bag? The cute canvas number you take to the farmer’s market? Forget it. That oversized purse you love? Leave it at home or prepare to spend $10 on a locker (if they even have room).

The clear bag loophole (and why it’s your friend)

Here’s the cheat code: clear plastic bags are allowed in larger sizes, up to 14” x 14” x 6”. Think of it like a stadium-policy life hack. You can fit your hoodie, your wallet, and your secret snacks in there without a second glance.

Forest Hills Stadium Bag Policy and Allowed Sizes – BagPolicyGuide

They also let you bring a small clutch (like, literally just big enough for your phone and credit card) even if it’s not clear. But honestly? Just buy a cheap clear bag on Amazon for $8. It saves you from having to play “what if” with security.

What you can actually bring inside

Okay, let’s get practical. Yes to: one sealed plastic water bottle (or an empty reusable one—there are refill stations). Yes to a small blanket or a poncho (it’s an outdoor venue, and it will rain on your parade). Yes to a portable charger—you’ll need it for all those Instagram stories.

No to: anything bigger than a fanny pack that isn’t clear. No to selfie sticks, tripods, GoPro mounts, or actual professional cameras. And please, leave the aerosol sunscreen at home—it’s basically a tiny bomb in their eyes. They’ll toss it faster than you can say “SPF 50.”

Forest Hills Bag Policy for Concerts

The medical and parent exceptions

Don’t panic if you have medical needs or a diaper bag. Medical bags and diaper bags are allowed, but you’ll need to go through a dedicated lane. Heads up: you might get a pat-down and have your items inspected thoroughly, so just plan for a few extra minutes.

Also, if you’re bringing a kid under 12, you’re fine. But if your child is 13 or older, they need their own ticket and their own bag rule applies. Yes, even if they’re still “your baby.” The stadium doesn't care about your emotional attachment to their Pokémon backpack.

The locker situation (a last resort)

If you show up with the wrong bag, don’t panic—they have lockers. But they’re run by a third party and cost about $10–$15 per use. And they sell out fast. I once watched a girl cry because she couldn’t get a locker and had to walk her vintage Gucci back to her car in Queens.

Forest Hills Bag Policy (2026): Bag Size & Clear Bag Rules

So here’s my advice: assume you’ll be walking a quarter mile. Pack light. Wear a jacket with big pockets. If you must bring a bigger bag, make it clear, make it small, or be ready to pay the locker tax.

Don’t be that person in line

Look, I get it: we all want to look cute and carry our whole lives in a cute tote. But Forest Hills is a historic tennis stadium—they’re used to balls, not bags. Their security team is efficient but relentless. You do not want to be the person holding up the line while you frantically dump your lip gloss into your jeans pockets.

If you show up with a bag that fits the rules, you glide through. If you don’t, you become an anecdote someone tells later—like my fringed suede saga. And trust me, you don’t want to be writing a blog post about your bag policy trauma two years from now.

So pack your clear plastic bag, your tiny clutch, and your best attitude. Then just enjoy the show. You’re welcome in advance for saving you from my exact, very public, very silly mistake.