I have always hated festivals. I get overwhelmed by the crowds, the schedules, the one-size-fits-all amusement park vibe of being milked of money while you chase the fun. This is my antidote to all the things I hate about festivals.

Venue

The house from Parasite.

Format

Fifty guests, five days, no phones.

Admission

Miranda July is on the door, and the price of admission is your filthiest sexual fantasy.

Movies

Michaela Coel curates the film selection and hosts Q&As after each screening. Dead or alive, the director is always in attendance.

Panels

There are no panels. Panel discussions are a bit boring at best and, at worst, a passive-aggressive dick-measuring contest.

Music

There is an outdoor space designated for taking psychedelics, where Mica Levi scores your trip live.

Food

Samin Nosrat runs the kitchen and all guests do meal prep shifts, which run like the masterclass she did with the author Michael Pollan, in which she would show up at his house on a Sunday and they would prepare a feast to enjoy with his family. Pollan and his family will be there, too, chopping alongside you.

If you are single

Céline Sciamma sets you up on a blind date, in which you sit and watch a movie with a complete stranger. Afterwards, you have to decide whether you want to continue hanging out with them, based on their take on the film, and how vocal they were during the screening (sometimes a movie calls for a little vocal).

Nurse’s office

If you are left feeling sad, angry, freaked out or in need of space, you are welcome to visit the nurse’s office, which will have a comfy California king bed, a claw-foot tub, and an iPod that pairs the right track to your mood like a musical sommelier. If you’re especially upset, the nicest teacher from your elementary school will bring you a cup of cocoa, rub your back and say, “You really are quite mature for your age.” Portable toilets

There are none, because nobody defecates in this fantasy.

Dancing

There is a nightly dance party, where a neon sign announces the theme for each track: “dance like a cyborg,” “dance like a cat on heat,” “dance like you’re an 11-year-old girl who just became cognisant of shame,” “dance like you are a 50s housewife who was just laid properly for the first time in her life, by the gardener.”

Literature

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and Patti Smith take turns to read you to sleep at night.

Party favours

Shirin Neshat and Nan Goldin are the only people who can take photos. Everyone else has to chill and be in the moment. The prints are handed to you on your departure.