It’s no secret that Art Basel, or any other art fair for that matter, now attract not only the creative classes, but every Joe Shmo seeking a quick escape that masquerades as a cultural endeavor, equipped with a bustling social calendar and a built-in pickup scene to match. By Day 3 of these shenanigans, half of South Beach starts resembling (and smelling like) Saint Patty’s Day left for two days to fester, with a dbag smog so dense that its practically blinding. Luckily, I am here to help you decipher the different douches you may have met this past weekend, with an accompanying strategic recommendation!
1. The Artist Douche. He is the man who cracked a few eggshells and stuck them on top of a makeshift bird’s nest, now being sold to a private collector in Monaco for 80K. He fully realizes that he has bypassed all the normal hierarchical steps of moneymaking, making him enormously proud and just as enormously entitled. Bored with everything and everyone besides himself, he mostly gravitates towards either fellow artists or walking human masterpieces, otherwise known as models. If you happen to snatch one up, be ready to caress egos and assist in gum-chewing missions for the sake of zee next chef d’oeuvre!
Hello!
2. The Art Industry Douche. This is the guy who works for a gallery or an art publication or any other place that makes him feel superior to us simpletons and inferior to the real artists, who’s egos he is constantly stroking for professional reasons. A nightmare to converse with, as he uses words like “pivotal” and will judge you for not knowing your Jack Piersons from your Rob Pruitts. Usually dates people who can elevate his stature or at least hold up his douchey lingo.
Bonjour!
3. The Investor Douche. A finance guy or athlete who probably has more money than he needs (or wants to claim on his W4) Pretends to be highly elevated but couldn’t tell his ass from his Anish Kapoors if it wasn’t for his douchey art adviser (ref. #2) who scouts the fairs with him for Basquiats by day and the clubs for b*tches by night. If you do manage to get close, seize the opportunity and pretend to be an art consultant, then sell him your little cousin’s autographed Crayola drawing with the promise of a 800% ROI!
Wazup?!
4. The “How did you end up here” Scenester Douche – Has nothing to do with art and is there for no reason at all, except to exploit his Soho House membership, pose next to the Wynwood Walls for Instagram, crash parties at the Edition Hotel and pick up the leftover models. (Basically, the male equivalent of yours truly, minus the models!) Tag along with him to the Standard Hotel BBQ and enjoy the free grub!
