MIAMI— As I tallied up my social itinerary last night, I discovered, once again, that there was just too much too choose from. Someone in Miami Beach was having a signing for a book about burlesque dancers. The Russians were having a party for their "Modus R" exhibition of new Russian art in the Design District. And in fact, the whole Design District was partying hard last night.

At the heart of it was the Design Miami fair at the Moore Building, and then branching out from it like so many arteries were events like the Russians' party, and dealer Jeffrey Deitch's art store, where you could buy, among other things, a nifty Barbara Kruger tote-bag that announced in all capital letters “Plenty is Not Enough.”

At the design fair, it was a truly frightening picture: a crowd surging forward to get into the vernissage, like bulls angling for the china shop, and meanwhile, inside, all those delicate, lovely things by Jean Prouve and Verner Panton ...

So I fled to the Russians’ exhibition, which was far more civilized. There, unlike many of the guests who seemed content to stand around hobnobbing, actor Dennis Hopper made several rounds of the exhibition, looking intently at works such as Anatoly Osmolovsky's gorgeous bronze objects, which turned out to be fashioned after the tops of Soviet tanks.

And the Guggenheim's Russia rep Nic Iljine, who is indefatigable and notably Santa Clause-like in appearance, also made the rounds of the room, shaking hands and being his usual genial self. Later, at the dinner, I asked Iljine what brought Hopper to the party. “Oh, well, you know he is good friends with [Guggenheim Foundation director] Tom Krens. They ride motorcycles together.” He paused. “Also he will be having an exhibition at the Hermitage next summer.” It seems all roads lead to St. Petersburg these days.

I also ran into developer and art collector Craig Robins (mastermind of the Design District and founder of the design fair) at the Russians' afterparty. There is something distinctly regal about Robins when encountered on his turf, with his gleaming bald pate, high-design spectacles and impeccable suit. When he talks to you he seems to see through you, to his kingdom. And to me, he expressed satisfaction with all that he had wrought.

Later on, back on Collins Avenue in Miami Beach, there were rumors that burlesque dancer Dita Von Teese was to emerge from a giant lipstick container in the center of the pool at The Delano hotel. I didn’t witness this spectacle myself, unfortunately; by the time I got there, all I witnessed was a cluster of folks at the door calling out their names to bouncers who shook their heads. (Shades of the scene at the Design Fair.)

Luckily, that was not the evening's closing image. Walking down Collins amongst the rowdy masses, I came across redoubtable L.A. collector Eli Broad chatting with his wife, Edythe, and hedge fund honcho Steven Cohen. The billionaire Broad is soon to launch his own wing of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and is probably one of the most generous art collectors in the world. But in navigating the sea of revelers, he seemed perfectly and artlessly unfazed.

Now that, my friends, is style.