We girls sometimes have this strange, perennial urge to get dressed to the nines, smell like cupcakes and flowers, strap on our sky-high Manolo's and use them to transport us to buzzing, overstimulated bars, where we can teeter around, sipping colorful cocktails, ignoring the opposite sex, and secretly fantasizing we're characters in our own girly HBO series. Sometimes we want Disney-sized mansions of excess; other times we'll take chic cosmopolitan standbys, perhaps with some college watering holes thrown in for good measure. We're women, we're allowed to change our minds. As if to further stereotype ourselves, these things are for certain, we want a backdrop that looks as good as we do, in a place that makes us feel forever 21, with enough stamina to handle our girl's night out.

Those art worlders in-the-know, whomever they may be, have been touting a new frontier. These economic times have paved the way for regenerating new interest, and new artists ... the big-time artists' chips are down, and the once-stuffy galas and galleries are forgoing their usual $900 plates and frivolous to-do’s in favor of cocktails and casual bids. The end result is at once despairing and opportunistic; as new players enter, many important and recognized artists are rendered anonymous by a fledgling crowd. Take last night’s ARTSEEN, an auction held at the Friedrich Petzel Gallery to benefit NYFA, featuring “affordable art” at bidding prices starting under $400, posh sips by Bubble Lounge and a mix of predominantly young bidders, many of whom were unable to identify iconic artist Andres Serrano even though they were really stoked about the Real Housewives of New York City, namely Alex McCord and Simon Van Kempen.

We wear our sunglasses at night ...