Zoë and Larry Chen at the Friday Night Meet at Velocity Invitational.

Part 1 of 2

Series: Experience & Access

The Road to Sonoma

Over the last few weeks, excitement for Velocity Invitational grew, along with the logistical stress of travel arrangements and pre-production. Once the day came to embark on my adventure, I expected the smoothest travels possible, but the universe had other plans. Three hours’ worth of delays and hurl-worthy turbulence later, I arrived in San Francisco still in good spirits. Sometimes getting to the event will chip away at your patience, and it’s on you to take every obstacle as part of the overall experience.

My first full day in Sonoma was fairly relaxed. I factored in time to sleep in, do some initial prep, and ease into the first major event of the weekend – the Daikoku PA-inspired Friday Night Meet hosted by Sung Kang and Larry Chen. The ride from my hotel in Rohnert Park to Sonoma Raceway took a little over 30 minutes and offered breathtaking scenery. From rolling hills, to intricate metalwork by local artists, to the lush rows of vineyards and their characteristic facilities. I couldn’t believe I had waited so long to get to Northern California wine country.

Upon parking in the lot designated for media, I thought two things: 1) “Thank God we don’t have to walk further out to get to the central-most area of the raceway,” and 2) “Are those sheep on the hills right next to our car!?” There were indeed flocks of sheep grazing the hills adjacent to the Sonoma Raceway, complete with a sheepdog that was politely communicating with said sheep to reel their behinds back in from the edge of the fence before he went to nippin’ those heels.

Within five minutes of arriving, I thought, “Goodness, I love NoCal.” One thing this trip did, along with my more recent trips to San Francisco and Monterey, was solidify that my connection with this area of the country wasn’t a fluke – it was confirmation that this place feels like home in a way that I can’t explain. As much as I want to get into astrocartography, I shall leave the “woo woo” content for another day on another platform. I digress!

Like a Kid Again

The sun began to descend into a velvety sunset, and cars of all kinds, from all eras, rolled to the top of the hill, to the lot where Sung Kang, Larry Chen, and a night of vibes awaited. The trailer for Drifter, a feature film written, directed, and starring Sung Kang, was shown to the crowd, followed by in-depth conversations about car and drift culture, storytelling, and the overall zeal for life that fellow car enthusiasts know all too well.

Once the movie screening and conversation concluded, all attendees were invited to rally down to the Sonoma Raceway pits to park their cars, display them as they wished, and get an autographed movie poster from Sung and/or a meet-and-greet with world-renowned car-culture documenter and photographer Larry Chen. Imagine the sight of hundreds of cars slowly rolling across the hilly track, sunset behind you, the chilly breeze blowing – the vibe was immaculate.

It’s like I was a kid again, walking through the droves of cars, new and old, luxury and classic, customized and stock, many reminiscent of my childhood collectibles. Surrounded by fellow car nerds, I felt this was a safe space. A couple whom I saw rolling in a classic ‘87 Buick GNX waited in line in front of me to buy Larry Chen merchandise and inquired about our camera gear and what it was for. We talked about my platform, The Wanderlustrian Way, their obsession with cars – buying old ones, rebuilding and customizing them, selling them – and how the car culture in Sonoma differed from that of the Bay Area. They even brought to my attention that FuelFest, the global automotive lifestyle inspired by and dedicated to the late and great Paul Walker, was in town that weekend, and if we wanted more raw, real experience of car culture, that was the place to find it. I wasn’t able to make it to FuelFest this time around, but maybe I’ll catch them somewhere on their worldwide tour later this year or next.

I believe this was one of the first times Velocity Invitational hosted a car meet like this, and I would surely love to see more of that energy mixed into motorsport events.

A Museum in Motion

On Saturday, I was able to get a more well-rounded feel of Velocity Invitational and all it had to offer. One thing I noticed about Velocity is that, as a premier motorsports festival, it offers the speed of a range of racecars on the track and the intricacies of classic luxury on display in the paddock. It’s fascinating to see around half a billion worth of cars right in front of you, to soak in the details of their liveries, interiors, and engines, at your discretion. Questions are welcome, and if the representative of a vehicle is around, you’re guaranteed to learn the stories of each vehicle – how every choice owners or car makers made led to what was elegantly propped in front of you. I felt like I was in a museum of sorts, and I did my fair share of strolling around, hands behind my back – like a cultured older woman – simply taking in the luxury in awe.

Side note: Why do displays of culture prompt people to stroll with their hands behind their backs? Why is this a universal body language? Just one of the many impromptu thoughts that pop into my head.

When it came to getting around the track, I wasn’t overwhelmed whatsoever. The raceway had various shuttles running throughout, and the media personnel had a special guy named Steve who would haul you and your gear wherever you needed to go – shout-outs to you, Steve!

In all honesty, I didn’t need to take the shuttles that much unless I wanted to venture out to one of the turns at the top of the hill, which required a lot of walking that could prove risky if you’re not careful with the California sun beaming relentlessly.

Access Isn’t the Same as Belonging

Now, let’s get to the nitty-gritty of the VIP experience, shall we?

As a lover of the finer things in life, I appreciate the opportunity to lounge a bit in comfortable seating, with premium snacks and beverages. As I’ve begun traveling and attending events more frequently, I always like to take advantage of VIP options at least once during my travels. But I’m finding that VIP experiences don’t always provide the warm welcome they’re marketed to deliver.

Upon approaching The Forum at Turn 1, I realized that the initial ticket I had pulled up from my emails wasn’t the correct QR code for the front scanners. Unfortunately, there was an incident earlier that day where a truck crashed into a communications line, or something, so the track’s Wi-Fi and certain mobile carrier signals were basically nonexistent. Since I made the rookie mistake of forgetting to download my event tickets beforehand, I was thankfully able to pull up my email correspondence with the PR team, which showed what access I had.

I received my wristband and started heading in, my camera around my neck and my production partner with his camera and monopod in hand. Upon reaching the top of the stairs on the Forum deck, we were met by a security guard who told us that media personnel wearing “photo” vests weren’t allowed in the space. Sonoma Raceway employs professional photographers and videographers for the event, and they are required to wear these vests. As my colleague and I didn’t have those vests on, I asked if this applies to all attendees with mirrorless cameras, to which he replied no – he said that he simply was telling us what he was told. Of course, since we didn’t have the vests that were restricted from the space, I wondered why this was even mentioned to us at all.

I then asked if we were restricted from filming or taking photos, and he said, “Not exactly, but because of the clientele’s prestige, they sometimes have issues with cameras in the space.” I thanked him for his insight and mentioned that the PR team had given me permission to access and document the space for the event. He assured us that things would be fine and let us continue our journey inside the lounge.

We walked a few steps away from the security guard who confronted us and were a couple of steps from the lounge’s entrance, where a woman (who obviously worked at the lounge) aggressively approached us with her hands up, firmly stating, “Media aren’t allowed in here!” I calmly explained to her that we have access to enter the space and that I am here with media credentials, but, again, we did not have the media vests she was also mentioning. She began to interrogate me about what kind of work I do and whether I’m from a publication. Once I explained what I do and that I have my own media platform, she responded, “Oh, you’re just a content creator.” This interaction became increasingly degrading over time, and she was making an inaccurate deduction about my presence there.

She continued asking questions about what we’re doing there, as if she was still trying to figure out if we, in fact, belong in the VIP lounge. Mind you, with all of her interrogation, she never once asked if we had wristbands or tickets. As I’m telling her that I have email correspondence with the PR team that shows my reasoning for having VIP access while being credentialed media, my colleague raised his wrist and interjected, “And, we have the wristbands.” The woman then replies with, “Oh, you do have wristbands! Well, I guess you can come on in,” opens the door, and walks us into the lounge.

This entire interaction was quite uncomfortable and made us feel as if a scene were being staged, with unwanted attention from other curious VIP attendees now drawn to us. Now feeling uneasy, we stored the monopod and any other “intimidating-looking” items attached to our cameras to avoid making other VIP attendees uncomfortable, per her recommendation.

Once we were in, the personnel serving the wine tastings were friendly and happy to give us in-depth information about the wines and their vineyards. Now that we were slightly more settled into the lounge, I was able to learn that Velocity Invitational’s founder, Jeff O’Neill, was also the founder of one of my go-to, affordable wine brands called Line39. Unfortunately, we didn’t capture much footage of the environment or our interactions, as we felt reprimanded upon entry for doing what we’d come there to do.

As we sat and initiated conversations with more wine personnel and a woman quietly enjoying a show on her phone next to us, the woman who questioned us earlier stoops to us and says, “You know what, feel free to film as much as you’d like,” with a reassuring pat on the back. I’m sorry, but nothing about the initial interaction or her performed “reassurance” made us feel truly welcome in the space. Who wants to feel like they’re under a microscope in a space meant for relaxation and socialization?

Ultimately, we didn’t feel welcome to document the experience as we were originally authorized to do. We did not return for the remainder of the day or the next.

But my experience at Velocity Invitational wasn’t defined by a single interaction. In many ways, it was defined by the people I met afterward.

Stay tuned for Part 2, where I’ll share conversations with photographers, drivers, and advocates working to shape the future of motorsport culture.

In the meantime, if your brand, event, or organization is exploring the intersection of culture, community, and experience design, I’d love to connect.

Zoë Benjamin

Founder & CEO of Wanderlustrian House

www.wanderlustrianhouse.com

Formula 1 Barcelona, 2025.

Exactly a year ago, I spent thousands of dollars on a VIP ticket to attend Formula 1 Barcelona in the hopes that it would somehow kickstart the life and business I was trying to build.

This year, I was invited to the Velocity Invitational with media credentials and VIP access.

The difference between those two experiences has nothing to do with money.

Searching for Access

After officially establishing my business, Wanderlustrian House, I decided to take a bold step into the automotive industry to gain clientele. I was becoming increasingly interested in Formula 1, and I was already set for a week-long Mediterranean cruise that happened to depart from Barcelona the same weekend as the race. I convinced myself that it was fate. At the time, it felt like too much of a coincidence to ignore.

*The F1 Barcelona race occurred May 29-June 1, 2025 – these dates matter.

I was convinced that if I was going to make the decision to go, I would need to position myself in an environment that would give me deeper access not just to the sport, but to the world behind it. And, not to mention, I’m admittedly a little more on the bougie side, so a VIP package made the most sense for me. After extensive research and conversations with my inner circle, I took the leap and opted for the Rising Stars VIP package, focusing on the F2 and F3 series at the F1 Barcelona race. I envisioned a networking gold mine, full of opportunities to exchange business cards with industry professionals and insiders, all while getting a full behind-the-scenes look into a world that I had only dreamed of being a part of.

When the Promise Doesn’t Match the Reality

In reality, my F1 Barcelona was quite disappointing. A package that promised premium treatment paired with meet and greets and exclusive access, in actuality, provided me with confusion, the feeling of being an outsider, and a literal physical breakdown–I sprained my ankle, VERY badly. One thing I learned very quickly while at this race was that a premium ticket doesn’t necessarily mean the event production was premium at all levels. Getting dropped off on the opposite side of where I needed to be at a specific time taught me that lesson.

An event I expected to be top-tier in logistics and flow for VIP guests turned out to have glaring logistical disruptions around staff briefing and dismissive treatment of a solo, minority attendee. After receiving a high-level look at the various aspects of event production at a prestigious event, I realized that my decades-long expertise in service, event management, and production could be welcomed in a space like this–especially with my perspective of a consumer and professional in what is considered a minority group.

*I’ll save my deeper takes on F1 Barcelona’s failed opportunities for a more seamlessly produced event in my next newsletter.

All in all, the F1 Barcelona event revealed an obvious disconnect between the promise and reality of motorsport. The automotive and motorsport industries have historically been highly coveted and exclusive spaces, particularly because of the high costs associated with cars and racing. So, a particular subset of individuals has been able to dictate the ins and outs of who attends and is welcomed into this world at a premium, professional level. The disparities of identities within the car world, specifically around race, industry experience, and, most prominently, wealth, are what cause many people like me to sometimes hesitate to try their hand at entering this world.

This isn’t to say that my own insecurities and underlying blocks didn’t play a part in how I moved through the F1 paddock, as they definitely had a significant impact on my experience. However, the piece that affected my ordeal was my ignorance of how to move with purpose throughout the space.

What It Gave Me

The overall disappointment of the F1 Barcelona VIP experience gave me perspective. I realized that these luxury automotive spaces are way more complex. Having the ticket doesn’t automatically give you access–it’s earned through various techniques, such as strategy, positioning, and patience. This perspective led me to officially join the EIE Motorsport Mentorship community, a group led by industry expert Stefanie Dechant that provides aspiring motorsport professionals with the tools needed to enter the industry purposefully.

I also decided to begin my storytelling journey around access and equity after my F1 mishap, starting a YouTube channel and a series called “What I Was Promised vs What I Got”. Ironically enough, I haven’t added to that conversation on YouTube since then, but that’s not the focus here.

The point is that without F1 Barcelona, there would be no clarity. No clarity around my brand angle and storytelling lens. No understanding of how access actually functions. No full-circle moment to implement my various skillsets into a comprehensive offering of services through my business.

The Shift

Fast forward to now–I’ve started to truly shape my brand and my voice. I can now confidently say that Wanderlustrian House is an editorial-led media and production studio exploring culture, automotive and mobility, access, and lived experience. WH develops narrative-driven storytelling that turns access into insight—centering perspective, cultural context, and long-term relevance over campaigns and trends.

I now have the pleasure of offering a list of services, including short- to long-form documentaries, live streams/webinars, and experiential/event storytelling. I began my own newsletter, Wanderlustrian Wednesdays, that explores culture, access, and lived experience across automotive, travel, work, and beyond.

Through sharing what I’m building publicly–no matter how uncomfortable–an executive at Velocity Invitational came across one of my posts and offered to have me attend said event. With a little back and forth, I’m now proud to say that Wanderlustrian House is attending the Velocity Invitational on *May 29-31, 2026, with media credentials and VIP access.

The moment I stopped trying to force myself into these spaces and started developing a genuine perspective on them, things began shifting.

Returning Differently

Last year, I was chasing a dream, trying to prove to myself and others that I belonged in an ecosystem that I quietly watched from afar for years. And now, exactly one year later, I was invited, relationships are being established, I’m being credentialed, and most importantly, I’m clearer on my purpose.

So much has changed in exactly one year. Imagine what else can shift in the next 365 days…

A year ago, I entered this world searching for a sense of belonging.

This year, I’m returning to it with perspective.

I’m still figuring out exactly where this road leads, but I know I want to tell stories that make people feel seen inside spaces they’ve always dreamed of entering.

If that resonates with the work you’re building, let’s talk.

Zoë Benjamin

Founder & CEO of Wanderlustrian House

www.wanderlustrianhouse.com

Word on the street is that she’s tone deaf—maybe even hypocritical.

I’ve been sitting with it, and honestly, I’m torn.

Around the same time her comments about working from home started circulating, I was asked a question: would I be willing to move back to New York City?

The Argument

While on tour promoting her new book, Start With Yourself: A New Vision for Work & Life, Emma Grede has discussed her journey as an English-Jamaican/Trinidadian woman raising her siblings and working at a young age, and the sacrifices that are necessary to achieve success and to build an empire. Emma’s take is that despite identifying as a woman, Black, and poor (at one point in her life), she took control of her own destiny through consistency, structure and strategy. She says that her approach to always being a student in life led to her asking as many questions as possible, and mastering any skill or job she took up—to the point where others acknowledged her dedication by asking for her by name, even when she was making sandwiches at a deli. Emma’s attention to detail and dedication to everything she did led to her not only valuing herself and what she brought to each scenario, but others valuing her as well. 

With this groundwork of presence put in place, Emma’s standpoint during her book tour that women working from home is killing their success, makes some sense. And, before you rip my head off—let’s examine this argument with personal experience, paired with some good ole fashioned logic.

My Experience Across Both Worlds

I’ve absolutely adored NYC since childhood—the energy is electric and palpable throughout each borough. A couple of months after graduating college, I decided that it was time that I followed my dreams of becoming a media powerhouse and move back to NY. Over the past decade, I’ve worked across media, production, and marketing—both in-office and remotely—gaining access to high-level environments while navigating very different work structures. I had access to the behind the scenes of the sports and entertainment industries, giving me my first taste of the fast-paced nature of these worlds, and the details these companies paid attention to in order to appeal to their audiences. I applied my events and marketing skills to the financial services industry, learning various strategies to nurture leads and gain higher conversion rates, and doing so in the midst of a global health crisis. I fully dove into the world of production, seeing it campaigns through from pre-production, shoot windows, post-production, to sustain—and I’d never felt more exhausted and alive at the same time.

I’m not telling you this just to brag about my work experience—though, I’m learning that my resume is quite noteworthy; I’m sharing this to say that I gained all of this experience through varied approaches. Whether in-office, remote, or through a hybrid work model, I gleaned a vast amount of experience through ambition, curiosity, and human connection. I learned how to connect with people face-to-face, and over a Teams video chat. But, I will say that the in person experience allowed me to pick up on way more nuances than a virtual workplace ever could. A large part of communication is nonverbal; and, being able to say hello in the hallway or even approach an executive in person gave them a better connection to me as an individual, and I to them.

What Remote Work Actually Created

When Covid came around, the workplace changed our lives forever by forcing the majority of us to work remotely for years. In the duration of this required work from home era, it was proven that most of us could execute our jobs just as, if not more, efficiently than before. For women especially, the ability to work from home gave them more flexibility to care for their families, while simultaneously succeeding in their jobs and building brands. Remote work has even proved to raise satisfaction and retention rates across the board for not just women, but all kinds of people across the board. Personally, I can attest to the fact that remote work gave me the space to explore my passions, and, ultimately, my long-standing dream of starting my own business, all while getting my 9-5 work done in an efficient and timely manner. What allowed for this space was the removal of the need to commute to and from the office, sit at a desk for 8 hours, and the associated costs with doing so. Additionally, it gave me the option to step away from an environment that was costing me way too much money and peace. 

What the System Doesn’t Acknowledge

Now that we’ve examined my personal career experiences, the structures and hierarchies of corporate culture and overall society need to be considered. Emma’s opinion on women needing to ditch the work from home structure is so polarizing because, if taken from a general sense, it undermines various factors—gender inequality, systemic oppression, wealth and class gaps—that corporate culture and Western societies were built upon. To simply say that women overall won’t achieve true success without being in the workplace everyday is downright problematic. 

As previously mentioned, I’ve taken part in a corporate structure for over ten years, in which I showed up to work every day, made my ambitions known, volunteered for additional work to gain more experience, and landed in rooms with decision makers—all in the hopes of climbing the aspirational ladder of corporate success. Instead of working my way to the top, I received a lot of unfulfilled promises of promotions, raises, and opportunities, which were given to others that, in most instances, were less qualified or had less experience than I had. I was continuously told that my time, or the success that I was working towards, would come if I completed the next arduous task. 

This occurred in multiple workplaces and companies; and, the most frustrating thing about it is that there are loads of people that have very similar stories. Those of us with similar testimonials around the lack of upward mobility within corporate structures have a few things in common—they’re women, people of color, or people without the financial resources to acquire the “correct” education/mentorship, access to spaces, or even grooming practices, to be taken seriously at the highest level of these corporate structures. 

Another piece that needs to be acknowledged is that corporate cliques are certainly a thing; and those that may have had some or all of the above resources simply weren’t chosen for roles and opportunities for the simple fact that they weren’t part of the in-crowd. You may scoff at this idea, but you’d be lying to yourself if you claimed this wasn’t true in the slightest.

So, What Now?

This entire discourse isn’t about whether Emma Grede is right or wrong. It’s about understanding who these conversations are actually geared towards—and who they leave out. And more importantly, what we choose to build for ourselves in response to the lack of opportunity that too many of us face. 

You can keep running up that damn hill Kate Bush so effortlessly reminded us of—doing everything right, waiting for the system to work in your favor.

Or you can take a different path. One that’s uncertain, uncomfortable, and entirely your own—but one that might actually lead somewhere.

As for me, I’m still thinking through what this kind of decision really requires.

But I know this much: I’m no longer willing to shrink my life to fit inside something that doesn’t give me room to build my own.

Which path will you decide to take?