Many of us suddenly woke up, stopped disassociating and realised the party was over
When I think about 2019, there is one scene that springs to mind, something that sums up the milieu so perfectly that it almost seems art-directed.
There we were two weeks ago at Rose Bay on the water’s edge, waiting for a private boat to take us to a harbourside mansion for a wine tasting. It was one of those days when Sydney’s air quality was among the worst in the world. The boat emerged from the pea soup gloom with the words “VIP” on the side.
Influencers posed by the swimming pool, seeing but refusing to see – this red-raw sun, that dirty brown sky