Gatekeepers to the Art World
On a balmy Saturday afternoon in far west Chelsea, the après-brunch art stroll gathers force, as the gallery tourists emerge from winter hibernation. Snippets of gossip in a confetti of languages! Purse pooches! Let’s see who you’re wearing, let’s see who’s on the walls. Springtime warmth dances friskily along West 24th.
Until you step behind the opaque gallery doors that line the block.
Here, winter is eternal. Brace yourself for the icy blast from the so-called reception desk. The gallerina sitting there will not give you so much as a once-over. Perhaps you’ll merit a flicker of a glance, before she returns to her infinitely more compelling computer screen.
Feel kneecapped? Not hip enough? You asked for the price list? You rube!
Don’t slink away. Here’s the good news.
It’s not about you.
(via: NYT Sunday Styles)
