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I   Where is the champagne? On second thoughts this is not entirely the right question The champagne is in the ice trough, on top of the elegantly-worn Eames table behind the partition wall The woman with a pom-pom on her head milling around beneath the late Frank Stellas has a glass of the stuff, as do the men in overcooked salmon slacks, the eternal palette du jour for collectors’ trousers, but it doesn’t seem likely that any of it is going to make it out of the booth they’re standing in, at least not into my hand Given the circumstances, Who do I have to be to get a glass of champagne? might well be the better question    ‘Of course if it was up to us, and a lot of people we work with, you know, it would just be open to everyone the whole time,’ Matthew Slotover, co-founder of Frieze Art Fair, had told me some weeks prior, a little unconvincingly Because at 7 pm on 14 October, 2015, standing in the aisle of London’s most lucrative contemporary art fair on the opening night, the meticulously planned tiering system is as clear as the shoreline under the Saint-Tropez sun Slotover has given me a 5 pm VIP pass, which in the Frieze running order makes me a fourth-class citizen Above me are the VVIPs, who can access the tent from 2 pm; above them are the VVVIPs, free to mill around from midday; and above them are the VVVVIPs, persons of paramount importance who can enter the tent from 11 am, and are furnished upon arrival with a complimentary bag of beauty products The 5 pm VIP pass, then, is for persons of distinctly ordinary importance   But not to despair, because although I am only fourth on the ladder there are many more beneath me There are the eager groups of art students sneaking in on the ticket of an art world friend, only to realise, once zapped through the guarded bag check, that Princess Eugenie is back in