First Class Fuckfest Roman Todd Devy Down -
The first CL Fest was not without hiccups. Poor acoustics in the secondary tent, long bathroom lines, and a last-minute cancellation from a scheduled DJ left some attendees frustrated. However, the energy remained overwhelmingly positive.
“It felt inclusive without being preachy,” said attendee Mira Chen, 29. “Roman Todd’s panel made me cry. Devy made me dance. I’ve never been to a festival that balanced both.”
What makes these three fascinating is their friction. On paper, they shouldn’t work together. Roman is impulsive, prone to last-minute set changes. Todd is a spreadsheet guru who color-codes bathroom wait times. Devy operates on “vibes only” and once replaced a scheduled headliner with a 90-minute improv whale-song choir.
But that tension bred creativity. The festival’s signature moment came Saturday at 9 PM: a “collision set” where Roman’s chosen band (a seven-piece brass punk group from New Orleans) played while Devy’s projection-mapped visuals melted across three adjacent building facades, all while Todd handed out turmeric-spiced electrolyte shots to the crowd. Strangers hugged. A marriage proposal happened near the taco stand. Someone cried — happy tears. first class fuckfest roman todd devy down
The story of CL Fest doesn’t begin with a press release or a sponsorship deal. It began in a cramped, graffiti-tagged warehouse loft six months ago, where Roman (a former music executive turned community organizer), Todd (a serial entrepreneur in the wellness-meets-nightlife space), and Devy (a digital artist whose immersive installations had gone viral on TikTok) sat on mismatched couches, frustrated.
“Every festival felt the same,” Roman recalls, sipping a cold brew on the now-festival grounds the morning after. “You pay $400, you stand in the sun, you watch a DJ you’ve seen three times, and you go home exhausted. We wanted to build something that actually lived — where lifestyle wasn’t a hashtag but the actual architecture of the event.”
Enter CL Fest — the “CL” standing for “Conscious Lifestyle” (though some attendees joked it stood for “Cool Losers,” a badge of honor they wore proudly). But the true magnetic force came from the trio’s distinct energies: The first CL Fest was not without hiccups
Roman Todd, best known for his prolific career in the adult film industry, has been steadily transitioning into mainstream lifestyle branding. At CL Fest, he hosted a sold-out talk titled “Authenticity in an Era of Censorship.”
Dressed in a minimalist black suit, Todd spoke candidly about mental health, content ownership, and the shifting economics of digital entertainment. “People want realness,” Todd told the crowd. “They’re tired of performative perfection. CL Fest understands that.”
Beyond the panel, Todd curated a “Sensual Living” pop-up—featuring candle-making workshops and guided breathwork sessions. It was a surprising, almost therapeutic addition to a festival otherwise known for its late-night party reputation. The line wrapped around the block. “It felt inclusive without being preachy,” said attendee
In an era where music festivals often feel cloned from the same corporate template — identical LED towers, the same headliners rotating between stages, VIP sections that cost a month’s rent — something genuinely new emerged last weekend. Welcome to the first CL Fest, a sprawling, immersive celebration of lifestyle and entertainment, anchored by three unlikely architects: Roman, Todd, and Devy.
If you weren’t downtown on Saturday, you missed a seismic shift in how we gather, groove, and grow.
By Jason Miller
Entertainment & Lifestyle Correspondent
The inaugural CL Fest made its highly anticipated debut this past weekend, delivering a bold fusion of underground culture, celebrity-driven panels, and immersive lifestyle experiences. While the festival aimed to carve out a new niche between high-concept art gatherings and mainstream music festivals, much of the buzz centered squarely on two names: Roman Todd and rising multi-hyphenate Devy.
Held at a repurposed warehouse district downtown, CL Fest promised “a celebration of modern deviance and creative living.” For better or worse, it delivered exactly that—blurring the lines between adult entertainment, nightlife, and curated pop culture.
