From its inception, Page 2 has been much more than a prominent page in the Jamaica Observer. It quickly established itself as the arbiter of the ‘in crowd’. And as the lead adjudicator of who is in and who is out, it is both fervently revered and despised. At the height of his popularity, author Truman Capote ( Breakfast at Tiffany’ s) decided to throw a lavish Black and White masquerade ball at the Plaza Hotel in New York City in November 1966. In the annals of social history, it is said that the list of those who were not invited was as significant as those who were. So, too, with Page 2 — the exclusions are as significant as the inclusions. Who makes Page 2 ? The bon vivants! If you can’t be pretty, then be stylish. If you can’t be stylish, then be witty or clever. If you can’t be witty or clever, then at least be rich. And if you are fresh out of luck on all counts, then, for the love of God, date someone who is. If all else fails, get embroiled in a juicy scandal. The bottom line is to have a point to your presence. One makes Page 2 when one can represent something distinctive, something extraordinary. When you can inspire someone else to look better, feel better, be better. When people for some reason will seek either to talk to you or about you. This is Page 2[naviga:iframe src=”www.youtube.com/embed/agl5WsyHU5M” allowfullscreen=”” frameborder=”0″ height=”332″ width=”504″][/naviga:iframe]

We are a boasy nation. Watch me! Watch me nuh! As a general rule, Jamaicans do not envy. As recent evidence attests, see the PNP’s gross miscalculation that Jamaicans would have been bothered by the Holnesses’ McMansion. To call status into question is seen as badmind and grudgeful. We celebrate both success and opulent displays of it.

Page 2 is a celebration of the good life, the play life, the parties, the fashion, the food, and the experience. It is culture and couture. It is the singular antidote to our ‘time hard, life hard’ mantra. You can only afford sardines? Then dress it up on china with a cloth napkin. Feeling low? Buy a new outfit, put on a bit of lipstick, get out and mingle. Embrace the joie de vivre with panache. Dance till dawn. Blessed are they who are poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven? Pardon? Not here! Poverty in spirit or in life sucks and Page 2 aesthetes are looking to create a spot of gilded heaven here on Earth. This is why Page 2 has become the single most read page in the Jamaican printed media. Even those who don’t buy the Observer can be seen taking furtive glances at the page in the checkout line.

Page 2 is aspirational. Even the glitterati on Page 2 do not necessarily live as they appear on Page 2. Page 2, after all, is the fantasy; making elegance and style look effortless even if the devotees hocked their homes for a dress and spent an entire day at the beautician. Page 2 is a trompe l’oeil, a trick of the eye. It captures the moment and the mystery but obscures the mechanisms and machinations that made it possible. Page 2 is our social dream weaver.

Page 2 is a club whose indoctrinated members are presumed to know each other even if they have never been formally introduced. There are dozens of low-demand relationships that are cultivated purely by co-existence on the page. Air kiss to the left, air kiss to the right, tight squeeze of the hand, bitchy comment and then move on. The Page 2 social rules are understood by all yet never spoken or codified.

The bevy of Observer photographers is the first port of call; the gatekeepers, if you will, to social stardom. Turn to the left. Turn to the right. Button the jacket, open the second button, remove the napkin from the glass. Snap. Snap. Snap. Checking out your savoir-faire. Piss off photog Garfield and that prominent belly overhang will be highlighted forever! The social recorders ask scene newbies who are you? And where do you work? Can you spell that, please? Need to get the name spelt right for the page! Scene veterans simply pause for a second for the photo and then glide past the interlocutors as the veteran bios are, of course, already on file.

There is an old philosophical question that asks: “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?” There is a corollary question in Jamaican social circles that goes something like this: “If you were at an event and Page 2 did not record it, did the event really occur?” And if it did occur, who cares? Page 2 preceded the Instagram era and in many ways is a higher grade of social currency than Instagram. With Instagram you put it up yourself, but with a Page 2 placement, a third-party arbiter deems your event worthy. Far better social cred!

As our lives move increasingly towards the show and tell and the endless parade of reflective mirrors, Page 2 will continue to hold a significant position in the social zeitgeist. Whether the mores of Page 2 move any particular individual or not, the fact remains that it holds the collective imagination of the nation.

In its 10-year history, Page 2 has also driven commerce. The retail and beauty industries spin on their axes whenever an event occurs where the Page 2 cameras are anticipated. Local designers run out of choice fabric. The elite hairdressers start early and go late. Mailpac business triples as the shoes and accessories come in from abroad. We care how we will look for the camera and that impetus to impress drives significant economic activity.

After attending any high-wattage event, the not-so-secretly self-absorbed lose sleep over the status-affirming questions that give

Page 2 its power: Did I make the page? Do I look good on it? What did they say? Because, let’s not get it twisted: making the page is one hurdle; what the caption says is a whole different subject.

Therapists could make millions unravelling the psychological effect of these questions. And nothing makes a day at the office more delightful than having co-workers file past your desk saying, “Saw you on Page 2 today.” To which the studied nonchalant response is always, “Oh really? I didn’t see it”, while 10 copies of the Observer have been already bought and packaged for mail to the aunts and cousins in Miami. See, see me deh, I matter.

Page 2 faves over the decade have included Shenna Carby muse Ann-Marie Vaz, the inimitable Cecile Levee, Grace Kelly-inspired Lisa Hanna, the dapper Patrick Casserly, the classic Chris Dehring, and the fashion-forward Colin Hylton. Collectively, they have taught us to lift our eyes and wonder. When will that be me? Will I ever sashay into the lights like La Dame Vaz in her crinoline skirt? Can I boldly walk through the red velvet ropes like El Comandante Dehring? Can my fluffy ever be fab like Miss Kitty’s? Will I ever destabilise a room simply by walking into it like Cecile Levee or Rochelle Cameron?

At the centre of it all is the doyenne of chic, Novia McDonald-Whyte. On questions of style, NMW is the final word; the only opinion that matters. Her pronouncements, which can be effusive or cruel, are always on point. As she stands at the entrance to the galas, like Catherine de’ Medici eyeing her devoted subjects arrive, you know as you walk through the door if you have had a triumph (she is effusive and smiling) or a flop (complete silence with pursed lips or the even more damning “glad you could make it” while her gaze looks past you to one more favourably attired and you know you have been dismissed). Ouch. Fashion Siberia is cold! She curates her events and her pages with an eye toward stylistic freshness. One week it’s tea in Upper Saint Andrew and the next it’s Portmore Fabulous.

Page 2 has had and survived its onslaught of very vocal and strident critics. The criticisms are largely in three buckets: 1) it’s superficial and promotes the frivolous; 2) it’s brown and perpetuates our racial hang-ups and; 3) its focus is on the moneyed rather than the ordinary Jamaican.

At times it would even appear that Page 2 has deliberately set out to antagonise its critics. The death of fashionista/retailer Kerry-Anne Clarke’s poodle Raven led to a full Page 2 reflection on Raven’s life. The public reaction was swift and the letters poured in: “Dawg dead? Dawg dead? People dem pickney a dead fi hungry and oono a put inna di newspaper say dog dead.” The page issued no apology.

The search for and celebration of beauty and style has been with us since we began walking upright. We have (superficially?) adorned our bodies to signal status and attract mates for centuries. Page 2 is superficial in the way that all our cultural pursuits of beauty and status are superficial. Man has never lived by toil alone. It is beauty and truth that have always made life worth living.

As to the criticism of the focus on the moneyed. Nowhere in the world do lifestyle pages focus on the “ordinary”. By design, lifestyle pages provide a window into how the affluent, the interesting and the beautiful people live. Page 2 is therefore, in the same venerated line as, say,Vanity Fair,Vogue orEsquire. The page spotlights the creative up-and-comers while dimming the lights on the has-beens and undeserving. Stars are made; stars are extinguished. The page captures the social gatherings and antics of our Jamaican Kanyes, Angelinas, and Jay-Zs, believing that our social elite deserve no less play than those who traverse the foreign stages.The Page 2 orbit is constantly being refreshed and revitalised. Ten years of ethereal play is kept alive only by constantly innovating and evolving.

Life always and everywhere exists in the shimmer of a shadow; our imprints entirely superficial. But to arrest the eye even for a moment with a well-tailored suit, a plunging neckline, or an innovative assemblage is to pay homage to the long line of aesthetes who have slaved for centuries to make us beautiful and stylish. The gods and goddesses of Page 2 are there to remind us that the point of life is not to sit in traffic and then at the desk at the office and pay off the mortgage — laudable goals, yes, but honestly, how dreary! The point of life is to celebrate in grand style the fleeting moment that we all have here.

So pass the Moët,, and let’s raise a toast to Page 2. We celebrate you as you have celebrated us. Happy birthday!