Arty Not So Farty

Last night I went to the last soiree of an auction house that is closing it's doors in Australia, where I. has worked for a couple of years. These parties are always so much fun, and I think I was sadder than the staff at the prospect of no more.

The nibblies are decent and the waiters gay and cute, but the crowd is so much fun. The handful of people she works with are like a family, funny and charming and clever and just so nice. Amidst the flowing Champers, wit tennis reverberates between the decorated walls, and it's the only place I feel I could actually pick up a sugardaddy - the ego boost from older rich folk is palpable. Everyone is dressed with panache, which you just don't see anymore, and the celebrities and local identities are better looking in person than in the media.

I always leave these nights floating like the bubbles in my glass.