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As if you needed reminding, Gawker is spending the week corralling media moles, the poor, pissed-on peons of the "glamorous" world that is New York media. Share your personal tale of bad behavior with us and become eligible for a prize that will only be tolerable due to the participation of foul-mouthed Post gossip Paula Froelich (or the rumored non-participation of Gawker editor Alex Balk). This morning's installment comes from the world of fashion; specifically, the world of Fashion Week, an event staged primarily for the snack-and-yack segment of the twiterati. After the jump, a stylist to the stars turns out to be - against all odds - something of a douchebag.

I was once working backstage dressing models during Fashion Week up at Bryant Park. I forget which designer it was, but I surely remember who the head backstage stylist was: none other than Phillip Bloch. This was a few years ago, but the guy was already a "famous stylist-to-the-stars" so the fact that he was even lowering himself to work in the Fashion Week trenches was a surprise. Anyway, each of us dressers was at our assigned rack of clothes and one by one, he walked down the line, inspecting the gowns and deciding how to accessorize them. He arrives at my spot and looks at the clothes and thinks. He then whips out a big piece of pink chiffon, drapes it around himself, and procedes to do his best prancing model-walk while wearing the fabric. He takes it off, changes it around, and does the same. It was all a bit ridiculous, and at the same time, one of the backstage guys walks by and looks at Bloch in amusement, looks at me, and LAUGHS. Then I let out a small chuckle as a result. Bloch stops what he's doing and stares me down. "What are you laughing at? Do you think this is funny?" I just look at him. "This is a fucking fashion show we play with fucking fabric!" I try to tell him that I wasn't laughing at him, but to no avail. The tirade goes on for about 5 minutes. "This is fucking fashion, this isn't a joke! This isn't fucking funny!". I stand there not even believing this is going on, all the while, the dude is STILL WEARING THE GODDAMN CHIFFON! In the end, I found it highly amusing that a bigtime "stylist to the stars" who makes buckets of money could have such a complex and that a little pisher like myself could set him off so. It's one of my shining moments!