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It's the way that Joey (a fellow former New Yorker) and I discuss all things cockroach over chilled PBRs—pondering if they poop en masse and live in our frosted cereal at night—that makes me feel confident there will be no yuppies in turtlenecks at this art party. I am part of the unruly rumble of voices, among the "juxtaposition, interweaving, influence" art conversations, intruding like a roach on an industrial adventure. It's a dual-purpose affair: an art show opening (about which more later) and the grand opening of a new space for Plasteel Frames Gallery, a frame service and art gallery "since 1974."

The curator of Plasteel Frames Gallery gives a note-perfect introduction. Then she and I intensely dissect the series Mad Men over cheap merlot: "I mean, I am a feminist and I love the show—Don Draper is just so true to that time. It was really like that for women." "I know, right! Like when she was at the gynecologist and he was like, 'Hey, nice vagina'—such great writing, UH-mazing writing!"

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Gail Howard impresses everyone with her bright, expansive, detailed abstracts. I know the show is really good when the sexy Englishman in the room says it is "quite nice." Free booze and a chatty crowd—the night is a smash. The vision of Plasteel's Liza Danger is to give fringe art a fancy new home. I am a believer after loads of drinks. Yes. Yes. From the north to the south, there is going to be a Sodo revival. recommended

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