If this retreat was based around the suicide girls lounging pool side, serving some ironic drink unearthed from the early 1970’s like a Harvey Wallbanger, I may consider attending Baby Tattooville. Alas, the organizers were not gracious enough to go after my demographic (28-year old, booze and sun-worshipping enablists). When the pdf brochure landed on my desktop, I became nauseated. Without getting into other specifics, the event’s title, “Baby Tattooville, A Limited Edition Retreat for Artists and Collectors”, was enough. In brief, you pay to hang out with artists, and other collectors with similar tastes and get free shit (gifts), totally exclusive to Baby Tattooville.
Take a moment, because I picture this. A kitschy event coated in pink and black, pommade and thick-rimmed glasses abound, where pale chicks covered in tattoos get leered at by the soccer moms visiting the spa. Now decide for yourself if Baby Tattoville will be the ultimate retreat for you who crave a Limited Edition experience. Or just read the Q&A.
