For 10 years now, the art world has descended upon Miami Beach, like a bird zeroing in on its prey, for a whirlwind of art, showings, and day-to-night indulgence. As a former Art History student who dove right in to my first career at NYs auction houses and who still loves art, artists and the glamorous world of the art player, I’ve made this my new mandatory stop. Last December, my first Basel experience, I really tried to take it all in and not be so sidetracked by the social scene. Fashion party girl? Yup. Granted, I enjoy all the unbridled hobnobbing with the cognoscenti, the artists, and the party crashers alike, but for me, dancing with the art itself puts me in a visual coma. It is well known that artists are professional observers. I absorb the depiction of these observations via the paintbrush, the sculpture, or the performance art through the artist’s eyes and try not to dissect the meaning too much. Like fashion bloggers, what are artists if not self-starters and entrepreneurs? I try to stick to the romantic notion (in my imaginary world) that all artists are self-sufficient . Don’t kill my buzz with the facts.
Last season, I attended the Main fair, Nada, Pulse, Scope, de la Cruz Collection, Red Dot Art Fair, FriendsWithYou, and the Rubell Family Collection all in two days. Oh, and throw in a few fashion soirées. I saw so much art my head nearly fell off. There was always an excuse to snap a photo. Camera in hand, I’m there in the crowd, and wherever this posh crowd goes, fashion follows. This year will not be any different. There is a profusion of pop-up stores cluttered in the Design district, art films, hotel pool events, and vampire beach parties that I am stoked to check out.
So without further adieu, and the horrific Miami traffic patterns drilled into my brain, I am going to leave you with a fresh mind, a new mental state so to speak. I will meet, see, run, talk, laugh, photograph, write, and schmooze.
Chill time? No. There is no need to pack the sunscreen and there will be NO relaxing. And I will try not to wear myself out on the first night. Darn those Louboutins!
Oh, and here’s what I will be wearing.. a girl is allowed to dream. Hello weekend warrior. Welcome the circus.