It really is a world of its own, and it seems to be getting bigger all the time.

I don't think that's because people are suddenly more aesthetically inclined, although maybe they are, but it does have something to do with the rich getting richer. Art is the ultimate form of conspicuous consumption. It's highly visible, extraordinarily, expensive and fabulously useless. The collector class is growing fast, and as the rising value of art makes the stock market look dull, things are booming at almost a pre-bubble level.

That's not a put-down. Better art than frozen pork bellies or Krugerands. And it's good for a nice bunch of people—artists. I'm not going to get into why I like artists now, but I'd rather see them in the big bucks than Halliburton.

Last year at New York's Armory Show I had a bit of an epiphany. I realized that it is actually the art world that consititutes the ultimate fashion consumer class. These are the high-fashion freaks, the couture clients and, yes, the most intrepid fashion victims. It's something observable at any art fair, and perhaps most spectacularly at Art Basel Miami Beach, the premiere American art fair. Most galleries have dapper directors and a bevy of attractive assistants from the handsome and dapper to, increasingly, the fetching and foxy. At the Armory show I noticed that many of the most successful galleries were staffed by very attractive young women, turned out in very fashionable clothes and consistently spectacular shoes.

I thought it would be fun to walk around Art Basel Miami Beach and take a look at the art world in full battle dress. So here's a gallery of dealers, collectors, and even a few artists, manifesting a broad and delightful spectrum of individual style.

Among the most dapper of dealers is Andrew Fabrikant of the Richard Gray Gallery. His personal turnout is as blue-chip as the art he represents.

Manuel Gonzales is Global Art Executive of JP Morgan Chase, but he doesn't dress like a banker. He's wearing black. He has visionary taste in art, which shows in the way he seems to be gazing into the future while talking on his mobile.

This young man was wearing a lavender button-down, unbuttoned, a rep tie of just the right width, and a good tweed cap.

Handsome hotelier Andre Balazs, wearing a stylish barong, was eyeing the art with the famously fun beauty Elizabeth Saltzman, the Fashion Director of Vanity Fair. Seconds later Elizabeth licked Mr. Balazs for the camera of my friend Sante D'Orazio, who is probably selling it to the National Enquirer as I write this. They are very old friends.

Per Skarstedt wore a classic natural-shoulder three-button suit the way you're supposed to, and his booth featured an all-star lineup: Condo, Kelley, Kippenberger, Koons, Kruger, Oehlen, Prince, Shermon, Trockel, and Wool. A great name for a law firm.

I don't know who these formidable gents are, but they looked great. The man on the left shows how to elegantly turn a disadvantage to advantage. His cravatier shows a Rauschenberg-like talent.

I don't use the word flair much, but this fellow has it.

David Lieber of Sperone Westwater, another advocate of classic American shoulder naturalism, stands in front of a painting combining Hello Kitty and Sant Ambroeus imagery by my amigo Tom Sachs. I saw Tom's $5,000 Prada limited-edition book at the fair. Christmas is coming, Tom.

We ran into the great Chuck Close, who was very sweet to the many fans who approached him, including us. I introduced myself saying, "I'm the other guy who eats lunch at Il Buco every day."

The gallery is Luhring Augustine, and they stand that way when they pose: Lawrence Luhring is on the left, and Roland Augustine on the right. They are standing in front of a rare collaboration between Christopher Wool and his rising-star former assistant Josh Smith. When I looked at this picture I realized that Roland looks like a very slim Tony Soprano.

More later. Time to hit the parties.