Fashion Week Lifts Me Up, Then Shoots Me Down Like A Spanx


Fashion Week has been such an incredible whirlwind for me!

I went to one whole show! (Charlotte Ronson, which was fabulous.)

But the 40 minutes before the show was enough to fill a lifetime of fashionable scrapbooks.

First, a blogger from Texas approached me to say he likes my work and he would love to interview me on video.

“Sure,” I said, praying he really knew who I am so I wouldn’t disappoint.

The camera started rolling.

“I’m here with the great Michael Musto,” he said right off the bat.

“Oh, thank God you know who I am!” I interjected on camera. “People have told me, ‘I love your work,’ and then it turns out they think I’m Isaac Mizrahi.”

He laughed and we went on to have a lovely interview, the blogger asking pointed questions about my career and taste.

I was floating on air — and coconut water — at which point a woman and her daughter descended on me, practically foaming at the mouth.

“We love you!” screeched mom. “Can I take a picture of you with my daughter?”

“Sure,” I obliged, feeling quite the shit by now.

“We love you on QVC,” she added with a demonic grin.

My jaw dropped down to my gift bag.

Oh, no.

She thought I was Isaac Mizrahi!

And she wouldn’t go away.

“Is there a QVC fashion show here tonight?” she wondered as my face froze.

“No!” I screamed and stormed away like a banshee on fire.

The woman is no doubt now telling friends, “Isaac Mizrahi is horrible!”