'Twas the Week of Art Basel
‘Twas the week of Art Basel, when all through the town
Foreign creatures were stirring, wearing nipple covers with no blouse.
Art Tents were propped up by galleries with flare,
In hopes that rich bitches would soon be there.
(asking price $15,000)
Our inboxes were loaded with VIP’s and RSVP’s,
While visions of Le Baron and Pharrell brought us down to our knees.
Mamma said don’t be late to work, but I twisted and shout,
As I hung with Puff Daddy, my worries ran out.
The MoCa turned neon, and teamed up with Vanity Fair.
This hipster bitch artist did not want to share.
His real name was secret, he lied to the press.
Worried his Google plus would turn out a mess! (seriously)
Out on the beach there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from FDR to Le Sandwicherie for a platter.
Away to the Perez I sat on a log,
That was actually an art piece, oh my god.
(@ravegrlproblems at 1Oak party at FDR)
(Perez Art Museum)
The Avant garde fashion of all of the people
Gave Miami a ripe look, are they wearing free people?
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a creepy corner mannequin, for selfies my dear.
With a little Hello Kitty, special moments were in style,
And away with the models, Leo DiCaprio did smile.
I heard fixed-gears swish by, art buyers out of sight
“HAPPY BASEL TO ALL, AND TIL NEXT YEAR GOOD NIGHT”