Dear Mr. Mickey,
I'm the male lead singer of a pop band and our new stylist is trying to force me to wear MC Hammer-style droopy drawers. Can I make it on the charts without dressing like I need a diaper change?
-- Don't Like Britches Bitches
Mr. Mickey understands your pain. You want to look like a sexy pop star not some poo-poo-in-your-harem-pants pipsqueak! Mr. Mickey likes to wear a lot of cuckoo crazy borderline bananas looks himself but MM can tell you that if you don't believe in the look you're showcasing, you'll look like a knucklehead. You have to believe that your ensemble is sexy and giving the crowd impure thoughts! You should speak to the stylist alone and explain that you're sure he or she is a wonderful stylist and your goal is to have a harmonious working relationship but in the end you know you can't give your best performance on stage if you're styled up like a douchey clown. Tell your stylist you're happy to figure out an outfit that you both think makes you look like hot shit on a silver platter but you just cannot go on stage looking like cold diarrhea on a paper plate!
Dear Mr. Mickey,
I'm a devastatingly sexy fashion world exec with X-rated rumors swirling all around me. Some say I'm a bisexual slut. Others say I'm a seductive withholder. Everyone thinks I've slept my way to the top. The reality is none of that's true and I'm just a hunky gay guy who sits home most nights watching reruns of Friends. (I'm Rachel with a splash of Phoebe!) Should I worry about all the lies that get spread about me?
-- Shy Boy, Not Sex Addict
Dear Shy Boy,
I'm a full-on Phoebe. And if I had to choose a male cast member to date I would definitely pick Ross in the episode where he wears the leather pants. But that's neither here nor there. You're in a difficult situation because no one likes to have nasty lies spread about them. Unfortunately Mr. Mickey and every member of the Kardashian family know that even a teensy-weensy bit of spotlight gets people shit-talking! One day Mr. Mickey got a tweet from a fan saying, "I love you Mr. Mickey. Never mind the haters!" And I was like, "Haters? What haters? Since when do I have haters? Why do they hate me?" Yes my friend, I'm like Betty White on that episode of Golden Girls where she goes completely crazy because that one man doesn't like her. It makes me crazy to think anyone hates me. But with a few decades of therapy Mr. Mickey has learned to accept that sometimes some poor confused and deluded fools are not gonna love Mr. Mickey. Your situation is more extreme in that lots of people seem to be confused about you. The good news is they're talking about you. The other good news is that eventually people will talk about something and someone else, particularly if you don't give them any fuel for the fire. So just do your thing and be yourself. In the end that's all you can do and all that matters. And if you get tired of Friends reruns give Golden Girls a try. I'm Sophia with a splash of Dorothy.
Dear Mr. Mickey,
I'm an editor at a super hip downtown magazine. We're known for discovering the coolest underground talent. We're currently working on our music issue and I'm afraid my deep dark secret will be exposed: I hate hipster bands and only listen to Broadway show tunes! How can I pass for a noise hip-hop-trap-nouveau R&B-loving cool girl?
-- I'm a Queer One, Julie Jordan
Dear Queer One,
Anyone giving me a Carousel reference in her signature deserves a standing ovation as far as Mr. Mickey is concerned. Listen, girl, it's no secret that Mr. Mickey is a Broadway queen. They say there are three kinds of people who go to Broadway shows: Jews, homosexuals and Jewish homosexuals. If you don't fall into any of these categories, that makes you a rare breed! And Mr. Mickey says when you're a rare breed you gotta let your freak flag fly and in your case let it fly from the roof of the Music Box Theatre! MM is sure there are plenty of other people at your magazine who know about those freaky bands that play in Maspeth and get reviewed by Brooklyn Vegan. You just be you, pussycat. You go ahead and wait at the stage door to get an autograph from Pippin star Patina Miller while the other girls in your office hook up with the drummer from Vampire Weekend. We all have our area of expertise and it's no good pretending to be something we're not! Except, of course, when Mr. Mickey is pretending to be a qualified and respected journalist!