Before Uber, there was “Jitney.” And jitneys. Few among us would have predicted that the one would lead inexorably to the other, but great fiction can achieve a level of prescience that we mere mortals can only wonder at.
The American Presidential Election. Super Bowl LI. The Oscars. Call us crazy, but at Dandelion Chandelier we see a pattern here. At three iconic events in American life in the past six months, everything that “everyone” expected, even very close to the end, turned out to be wrong – in one case, even after an official announcement had been made and the acceptance speech had begun. One of these incidents on its own might be interesting. Three in a row is riveting. What’s going on here?
Hollywood musicals are clearly making a comeback, with the film LA LA Land now a critical darling sweeping the film awards season. But in the higher reaches of culture, an interesting conversation is underway among the cognoscenti. If you love musicals, which is a better place to find them right now? Los Angeles or New York? The cinema or the stage? In other words: is La La Land really all that?
Attending a film premiere or a “special screening” of a new movie is one of those magical luxury experiences that somehow never gets old. You can’t buy your way in; you have to know someone or work in the business to get invited. The stories one can tell the next day are invaluable social currency. And the people-watching is unrivaled — even better than hanging around the pool at the Château Marmont. If experimental luxury is your thing, this is one of the better experiences to aspire to.
Art Basel in Miami Beach wrapped up last week, and the perpetual party that is South Florida is just a little bit quieter for now. On a recent afternoon in New York, I sat down with a friend who is deeply expert in contemporary art and asked him a simple question: what is it with billionaires and art? And why do so many extraordinarily wealthy people attend these big art fairs, like Art Basel Miami, year after year? He smiled as he glanced out at the glum, rainy, cold Manhattan sidewalk scene. “Well for one, it’s in Miami Beach.”
