new york fugging city

Fug Girls: Beauty Queens, Lohans at Nicole Miller

Photo: Larry Busacca/2014 Getty Images

There are certain Fashion Week milestones we greet like old friends, and one of them is the inevitable Epic Eyesight Fail that causes us to wildly misidentify a member of the front row. Our inaugural brain fritz happened at Nicole Miller — on Friday night, when we walked into the venue and saw comedian Rachael Harris talking to a bespectacled guy. “What is Ray Romano doing here?” we wondered aloud, as a pretty brunette passed by us. She shot us a very confused look — almost concerned, really, as if she were worried we might have sprouted a tumor. She was right: It was not Ray Romano, and as a flashbulb illuminated his face, it had in fact never been less Ray Romano, and we may need to get our heads X-rayed next week.

It turns out the girl who overheard us, and appeared to (correctly) think we were insane, was actress Amy Acker, best known for her work on Angel, and current star of Person of Interest. Acker looked really cute in a springy blue and black sleeveless dress, and seemed really tickled by the whole Fashion Week scene, which she was taking in for the first time. She sat next to Not Ray Romano, in the vicinity of Daisy Fuentes and sitting several bodies down from her co-star Michael Emerson’s wife, Carrie Preston of True Blood. We also saw The Following’s blonde pixie Valorie Curry, which has us wondering if Nicole Miller is just really popular among actors whose day jobs involve a lot of tension and people-hunting and murder. This doesn’t explain why former Miss USA Olivia Culpo was in attendance, unless behind-the-scenes pageant shenanigans have taken a serious turn for the sinister.

It also doesn’t explain the presence of one Dina Lohan, mother of Lindsay, whom we noticed primarily because she made sure of it: She was standing in the middle of the runway with her arms outstretched, turning in all directions and performing what Tyra Banks would call a “booty tooch.” Daughter Ali was on hand in the front row — Dina sat directly behind her — in woefully ripped black jeans. After they posed for pics together, Ali announced she was taking some solo shots, and the movement of the crowd basically shoved us directly into Dina. She was cheery about it, grabbing our arm conspiratorially. “Isn’t this crazy? I feel like I’m on the subway!” she announced in the gravelly tones we’ve come to know from her titian-haired offspring. We also heard her tell multiple people, of her black, sparkly pants and top, “[Nicole] offered me a dress, but I was like, ‘Ugh, no, I’m a hundred, I’ll take the tunic!” She actually seemed like a kick, and suddenly we found ourselves wanting to get a cocktail with her. What is happening? Day two is standard for our first case of mistaken identity, but surely it’s too soon for Stockholm Syndrome.

Fugs: Beauty Queens, Lohans at Nicole Miller