Buy a town
The editorial office of ARA Baleares overlooks a street in the noble area of Palma, a in the place filled with art galleries of all kinds, cafes cutesy, an antique dealer who isn't an antique dealer, and a real estate agency. Tourists love taking photos on this street. It's narrow, sterile, impersonal, but quite picturesque by Instagram standards. Sometimes I go out and walk around just to hear the comments of those who stop by the real estate agency, presented with all the clichés of Nordic luxury: standardizing white, light-colored designer furniture, Mac computers (Apple grants status), and ads on tablets. Everything digital, everything modern, everything neutral to the point of nausea. Art galleries don't garner nearly as much interest as the real estate agency. Both luxury homes and contemporary art are reserved for the wealthy, but everyone aspires to the former, and the latter only interests those who appreciate it, those who pretend to appreciate it, or those (to close the circle) who want to decorate their luxury homes.
Foreigners are less surprised by real estate market prices or don't make much of a fuss about the multi-million dollar sums, but the Spanish reaction covers a wide spectrum between desire and indignation. "Look, look, good Lord, but with what this villa is worth, we could buy the whole town," a man in his thirties—wearing a T-shirt, Bermuda shorts, and flip-flops—said to his wife, who simply nodded with a laconic, "Of course." And continued devouring her Dubai chocolate ice cream. A pure democratizing trend.
Tourists are mesmerized by the noticeboards and take small steps to follow their ads, like someone, paradoxically, looking at paintings in a museum, or in those art galleries that hardly anyone ever goes to. Although they must be profitable because, like real estate agencies, a few clients will be enough to make ends meet.
There's no such thing as luxury in the newsroom. The only thing we associate with it is that it's open-plan, an adjective that works as a plus in the real estate market, because lacking walls is a common trait of architects who design for the rich. In this case, it's open-plan for pure functionality, so we can see each other's faces, call each other, or make orders when we cross the street of art galleries to buy food at tourist prices. After filling our bellies, we can't even buy the ice cream lady's town.