From My Press Clipping Archives: I Was a Tabloid Star!
The high point of my career--my Watergate, my Pulitzer, my Hottie and The Nottie, as it were--was being included in The Star magazine in the blurry '90s as part of their weekly fashion spread. On a slow week, I guess, they ran a big photo of me wearing neon, blindingly patterned pants, a swirling, multicolored shirt, and a four-foot polka-dotted green tie. The heading of the spread was "Would You Be Caught Dead in This Outfit?" and I wasn't the least bit annoyed by that. I had made it into a supermarket tabloid!
Landing in this particular column was my dream anyway. I had always thrilled to all the eye-popping ensembles that the tabloid strangely thought were hideously tasteless. And in my case, being tasteless was exactly the point! I wanted to blow people's fuses with a mere glance at my nightly explosions of mismatching motifs. I reveled in bad--or actually, no--taste, and was delighted that they had finally noticed my stylist was sightless! The caption: "Michael's fashion statement is a single word: Garish."
And my response, even now, is a humble two words: Thank you, Star!!!!
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