"Her name is Misty Rios and she dances in the sand..." Yes, that was me singing along to Duran Duran in the car over this past Labor Day. In fact, I dipped my darling toes (Have I ever mentioned how much my homeboys love 'em? Probably. I was proposed to on the subway this week just for my cute feet and "strong" calves. Stay tuned about wedding plans.) into three different bodies of water during my sun-drenched sex, drugs and rock 'n roll weekend -- not counting my excursion to see Feist play at the McCarren Pool in Brooklyn last week.

My newly appointed favorite female singer of all-time kicked some musical ass, unfortunately my experience was slightly marred by the appearance of Socio-Patrick. When breaking up with someone, one should be able to "claim" music that he/she introduced to the relationship, don'tcha think? Anyway, I considered telling a security guard SP had drugs on him (I mean, he probably did), but the karma police quieted me into submission.

After a wacky sing-a-long with Scrat's family lead by old-tymey comedienne  Marilyn Michaels and a "How to Vogue" session with the Ghetto Fagulous creatures that inhabit the Christopher Street pier, I was more than ready to take on drag queens like Brandywine and Brenda-A-Go-Go at the Van Cleef & Arpels Fashion Week kick-off party.

Other, more mainstream fashionistas who appeared at the Hammerstein Ballroom fete included Demi Moore (No, Ashton Kutcher, didn't suddenly age 20 years to catch up with his miracle of modern surgery wife -- that's designer Alber Elbaz of Lanvin), Ashley Olsen (scowling, of course), Eve (in anti-alchy anklet), Sarah Michelle Gellar and more.

And by more, I mean fashion disasters like Vanessa Carlton and sceney-scenesters like Leven Rambin (as predicted last week). Seriously, I've seen All My Children's teen tartlet seven times in two days (I'll give the final tally next time). She's frequently sporting a pair of weird ankle boots, but at least she hasn't resorted to this again. When Magic Man David Blaine showed up at the Cygalle Healing Spa at Bryant Park Hotel's Daily Suite to get a manicure alongside Leven, I almost died of laughter -- or of suffocation inside a box of ice in Times Square, whichever happens first. But my nails looked great all Fashion Week -- better to scratch you with, my dears.

Speaking of ice, a handful of my fashion week plans were scrapped due to the villainous intervention of a top editrix. I wonder if any of my old nemeses (Julia Allison, Jada Yuan, Shira Levine, Sasha Charnin Morrison, Joyce Chang -- just to name a few) had something to do with this? No matter, Ms. Misty finds her way around any bitchy barrier. So far I've been to the BCBG, Jason Wu, Generra, Charlotte Ronson, Cynthia Steffe, Terexov and Gottex shows. Of those, I definitely liked Charlotte Ronson the best. Very cute and wearable, yet a little bit sexy too. Cynthia Steffe was horrible, and my old standby BCBG? Total snoooze. Anyway, celeb sightings include: Ashlee Simpson, Sophia Bush, Ciara, Carmen Electra, Natasha Bedingfield, Kat Deluna, Donnie Trump Jr., Rashida Jones, Samantha Ronson, Steve Aoki, Brendan Sexton III, Nicky Hilton, Marcia Gay Harden, Lisa Loeb and Dr. Ruth. Is anything more ironic than Dr. Ruth being the most popular woman at a bikini-clad supermodel fashion show? I think not!

Nicrush and I had a field day at the show, picking out our favorite Barbies and making fun of the Fat Model. Tee-hee! Anyway, who needs a model-skinny body when you've got BACK? I've been fielding calls from many a pre-summer suitor that's back in town after forays into the Hamptons and what-have-you. Boy Toy, Billy Clubs, and The Brit have all been in full effect, though only D.Money managed to tap that azz. I even saw a former DJ flame on the subway today (not Van Sex Machine, the possibly schizo 007). Have I mentioned I'm a weirdo-magnet? Cuz I am. Much like Kate Hudson (currently dating Dax Shephard?!?!), I too can find something cute about a kooky, crazy character.

On that note, a trustworthy source tells me Owen Wilson's former agent's assistant (follow that?) personally arranged a drug intervention (heroin, ahem) over nine years ago. Sad. On a happier note, I just heard that Uncle Fester AKA Ken Baker just got the axe from US Weekly. Hopefully not-so-secret boyfriend Ryan Seacrest is nearby to kiss away his tears.

Air kisses, Mistina Von Rios Muffingham IV

p.s. Current Favorite Overheard Fashion Week Quote: "I can't remember your name, but I'm looking at your face and I'm pretty sure I like you." -- Susan Cernak of Glam.com to another anonymous fashionista.