Meet the Life of Rhode Island’s Parties

Newport fashion icon Mikki Micarelli is photographed wearing her favorite Escada gown and boa inside Rosecliff, a Gilded Age mansion operated by the Preservation Society of Newport County. Visit Rosecliff for daily tours from 9 a.m.-4 p.m. and attend the annual Newport Flower Show, June 19-21. newportmansions.org. Photography by Josh Adam. Makeup by Erica Wright of Glam Done Wright

Florence “Mikki” Micarelli is dancing her way through life, gracing the “Out Takes” and “Guest List” pages of this magazine since the early ’90s. She’s always fabulously dressed in show-stopping gowns in all the colors of the rainbow. Her outfits include one-of-a-kind accessories like an exotic white feather boa or unusual handbags and handmade headpieces and hats. She’s been featured as a guest on our “society” pages more than anyone else in the history of this magazine, which made us wonder: Just who is this impeccably dressed woman of the hour?

The fashion icon has attended charity galas, balls and elaborate events from Newport and New York City to Palm Beach and Paris. Micarelli was frequently photographed by the late New York Times style photographer Bill Cunningham and appears twice in the book Bill Cunningham Was There: Spring Flings + Summer Soirees.

As I chose the parties we covered for our society pages each year, often fielding calls from Micarelli about which events were most worthy of press, I struck up a friendship with her, wishing to know more about her colorful lifestyle.

Micarelli is dressed for the 2019 Audrain Automobile Museum Summer Gala, wearing a headdress she made out of an 1886 Mercedes model car.  Photo courtesy of Florence “Mikki” Micarelli

Florence Pisacreta was born in 1946, one of five children and the only girl to her Italian immigrant parents, Vincent and Anna Pisacreta, in Everett, Massachusetts. She graduated from Everett High School in 1964 and studied fashion design at the School of Fashion Design in Boston, where she completed her thesis on Jacqueline Kennedy, designing a collection of clothing around the first lady’s personal style. After graduation, she became an instructor in French draping (a rare form of dressmaking that takes a lot of skill) at her alma mater, where she taught for the next eighteen years. She taught nights at the Boston Center for Adult Education and courses at Brookline High School, and also defied the odds as a female by becoming a wedding dress designer at Priscilla of Boston on Newbury Street.

As word quickly spread about her sewing skills, Micarelli left Priscilla of Boston to set out on her own, independently designing wedding gowns. “I did a wedding gown for a family, and then it just skyrocketed. It only takes one meeting, then they tell their friends,” Micarelli says. “I would get phone calls, ‘Oh, you made so-and-so’s daughter’s gown. Can you make my daughter’s?’ And then they would say to me, ‘I don’t know how much she paid for it, but I would like something even more expensive,’ because they all wanted to outdo each other.”

Micarelli was devoted to her career, married, never had children, and divorced after seven years. She never married again, instead choosing long-term committed relationships. She continued to design gowns and was first attracted to Newport in the early ’90s for the City by the Sea’s ocean views. She became involved with charities and began attending galas with her friend Jean Di Bona, mother of TV producer Vin Di Bona, known for creating the hit TV series “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

“Right before [Jean] passed away — she was ninety-eight when she died — she started to skip things. She said, ‘Mikki, I’m tired. I’ve done enough. I’m passing the baton to you,’” Micarelli explains. “She would say, ‘Come by my house. I’ll be in the window. Show me what you are wearing.’ So I would drive to her house and show her, and she’d see me all dressed up.” Di Bona left several items to Micarelli.

The designer eventually bought a condo on Newport’s Goat Island and also owns a home in Stoughton, Massachusetts, where she lives in a retro-style, single-level ranch that she designed herself with big picture windows and lots of natural light, a sprawling garden out back and several bedrooms turned into dressing rooms.

Her Stoughton home houses more than 400 vintage and new gowns — worth anywhere from $10 to $10,000 — and closets and drawers filled with accessories worn to charitable events. She’s also an avid gardener and bocce player and has continually served on event committees for organizations like The Tomorrow Fund and MAE Organization for the Homeless to create and promote events that raise donations to help those in need. A ballroom dancer, Micarelli also helped revive the Roseland Ballroom in Taunton, Massachusetts, when it suddenly closed.

Both her home and her condo in Newport are decorated with framed photos of her posing with family members and famous people, including Prince Albert II of Monaco, Jay Leno and even Donald Trump (“When I met Donald Trump, he was not like he is today,” she insists, shaking her head). She frames portraits of herself in her favorite gowns and hangs them on her walls. In both homes, handmade hats are displayed on tables throughout her parlor and sitting area. In Newport, dozens of photo albums line the perimeter of the open floor plan and are stacked on closet floors. Each album contains photographs from the various charity balls she attends each year, documenting snapshots with guests and her outfits in each one, often filling four to five albums yearly.

She is celebrating her eightieth birthday this year. “I’m ready to waltz my way through the next eighty years,” she says with a laugh.

We were lucky enough to get a behind-the-scenes look at her lifestyle:

Micarelli, wearing a 1979 vintage gown from Saks Fifth Avenue, stands next to Rosecliff’s famous life-sized marble lion statues that flank the front entrance of the Beaux-Arts oceanfront estate. Photography by Josh Adam. Makeup by Erica Wright of Glam Done Wright

How did you first get into fashion?

When I was a child, I wanted to make wedding gowns. My mother used to sew my clothes. She couldn’t afford to buy them. She made them. She came here from Italy with my dad as immigrants and we were poor. She had five kids, and I was the only girl. She used to dress me. I learned how to sew from her. And then I went to the School of Fashion Design on Newbury Street in Boston. I did my thesis on Jackie Kennedy and even sent her a letter with the thesis, and I got a return letter back with her signature on it. That was 1967. So then I graduated, and the school places you, and they ask what you want to do. I wanted to make wedding gowns.

So you always knew you wanted to do wedding gowns?

I wanted to work at Priscilla of Boston. They weren’t hiring at the time. My heart was broken. Of course, I’m single. I’m living at home with my parents. So I called up on my own. I said, “I know you’re not hiring, but I’d like to come in for an interview that you can please keep on file.” They said OK. I packed my portfolio with the five garments I made for my thesis on Jackie Kennedy. I go for an interview, and her husband interviews me, Mr. Kidder, in Charlestown, where they made the gowns. He’s charming and handsome, and he says, “We’re not hiring right now.” Then I met with Mrs. Kidder, and she said, “You know, we don’t hire women. I don’t want to spend the time training a woman, and then she gets married.” I said, “I understand, but this is my dream to work here.” Mr. Kidder says, “We have your information on file, so we’ll call you if anything becomes available.” I said to him, “Mr. Kidder, I will work here for six months without pay. And after six months, if you don’t think I’m talented enough to work for you, then I will just go.” He put his pen down. I don’t think he could believe what he heard. He said, “Be here Monday.” So I did and they paid me.

So after graduating and working at Priscilla, did you earn a living making dresses?

I ended up, of course, getting married. It was just what Mrs. Kidder was afraid of. I did exactly what she said would happen. I was twenty-two. I was married seven years and divorced at twenty-nine. I was working at Priscilla’s. My father used to sit with me at the dinner table with my brothers and say to them, “She makes more money than you.” I was working at the Boston Center for Adult Education. A lot of women at the time didn’t work. It would be all men lined up at the train station and occasionally you would see a woman. It was all about getting married and having children. But I wanted to work, and I put my husband through college. He’s remarried now. He lives on the West Coast. We had an amicable divorce. I never remarried again. When I got married, I was Mrs. Kidder’s right hand at Priscilla’s. I would go to New York three days at a time. I was working three different jobs and making gowns at home. I loved what I did and I would start on a gown and I didn’t want to stop. And my husband would say, “Mikki come on, come to bed.” I used to wait for him to fall asleep and then I would get up and be in the sewing room. But my marriage was ending, and then I ended up meeting someone.

Where do you store all of your outfits?

They’re coming out of the seams at my house in Massachusetts and in my closet here in my Newport condo. I’ve been looking for a bigger place in Newport, but I can’t find a place I can afford that’s got twelve closets. I’m taking over all the bedrooms at the house. I have two rooms in the basement and I’m taking over two bedrooms. So it’s four rooms and twelve closets. I don’t get rid of anything because I’ve made some pretty good choices, and I’m basically the same size. I am eventually hoping to do a fashion show and donate and auction off some of my gowns for charity.

What are some of your favorite pieces?

This Escada is thirty-five years old. Back in the ’80s, Escada was a big name in fashion. Escada was my go-to when I was working at the design school on Newbury Street. Anytime I had extra money, I would go to Escada. And of course, their prices were so exorbitant, so I had a buyer, a personal shopper there. I’d go there in November, pick something out, and she would put it aside, and I’d buy it later on sale. I probably have twenty-five pieces. They are all classic, beautiful gowns. I also buy one Dolce & Gabbana a year because I love bright colors.

Now I’m going to tell you about my boa.

Micarelli on the staircase of Rosecliff with the famous boa. Photography by Josh Adam. Makeup by Erica Wright of Glam Done Wright

The boa seems just as famous as you!

The boa has had a big impact on my life. I bought that more than twenty years ago. Right before I met Prince Albert II of Monaco. I was walking with my companion on Fifth Avenue. We’re going by Escada. There was a ski window with three models with ski poles. You know how they dramatize shop windows? One of them had on this white boa.

I go in and inquire. I said, “I love that boa.” He said, “Oh, that’s not for sale. That’s a prop.” I came back home and I wasn’t convinced. So I called him back. I said, “Is there any way that’s for sale? Because I love that boa.” Then they called me back and said, “OK, we’ll sell it to you for $2,000.” They said, we’re going to ship it to Escada in Boston, and you can see if you like it, and if you like it, pay them, and if you don’t, they’ll send it back to us. So I remember driving into Boston, the boa had arrived, and everybody was standing around. I opened up the big box. I had never seen anything like this. It was so beautiful. And everybody’s like, “If you don’t buy it, I’m gonna buy it.”

So I bought it, and I wore it that first night when I met Bill Cunningham. He was the style photographer for The New York Times. And when he saw me, he ran up to me. He took me inside and spent probably a half an hour photographing me. He goes, “Do you know how valuable that is? Where did you get it?” I couldn’t understand why he knew so much about this one boa. And he’s telling me it’s from a rare bird. He knew the history of it. Come to find out, his mother in Boston used to make hats and he used to help her. He knew about feathers. So that’s why he knew about the authenticity of the feathers and how rare it was. And he fell in love with it, and of course, we became friends. That was the first time I met him. And sure enough, he puts the picture in The New York Times.

So of course, I was flattered when his book came out. This is after his death, and I could not believe it, but my picture is there on the opening page. It brought me to tears. So then, eight pages in, there’s another picture of Mrs. Di Bona and me. They said I am the only one who has two pictures in his book. Every year, he remembered me, and every time he came to Newport, he would look for me, and I was photographed for The New York Times. When he passed, they had an exhibit of his things at Rosecliff, and it was so nice to go there and see his photographs.

Micarelli outside of the CUSP Gallery in Newport before the Audrain Summer Gala in 2024. Photo courtesy of Florence “Mikki” Micarelli/Photograph by Curtis Speer.

How did you meet Prince Albert II of Monaco?

Because of my boa. It was the night I wore that boa and he was out on the dance floor. This is back in 2006 when he was in town for a gala at Marble House to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary
of High Society, starring his mother, Princess Grace Kelly. Prince Albert’s mom taught him how to dance. He was a good dancer, so the jitterbug came on and he was like, “Who can jitterbug?” And nobody knew how to jitterbug. Nobody.

I took my boa with me, and we’re doing the jitterbug. An hour later, this woman came up to me, and she said, the prince would like you to come to an after-party with them. Well, I was with Mrs. Di Bona. I said, “I can’t go, I’m escorting Mrs. Di Bona.” And the woman said, “Be out front at a quarter to eleven and our people will guide you. We’ll take care of your belongings and you’re going with the prince to the party.”

I looked at the clock and it was time to go. So I go out in front of the Marble House. And Prince Albert gets in the first car, a police car, and I get into an SUV. When I got into the cavalcade, they took my pocketbook, my keys, my camera, my lipstick. I had nothing.

Lo and behold, there are four other girls. They’re from Texas, and they got invited, too. I was the only Newporter invited to the party. There was just us five girls. I said, “Does anybody know where we’re going?” One of the girls said, “I heard we’re going to the Boom Boom Room.” So cops are going down one-way streets and we go down that alleyway next to Clarke Cooke House. They’ve got a red rope going across so you can’t go through the line. So we pull up, no problem. The prince gets out, takes off his jacket, takes off his glasses, and takes off his bowtie because he doesn’t want to be recognized. The Secret Service was stationed right along the dance floor. He was dancing with all of us.

Then a quarter to 1 a.m. came and they’re like we gotta go. We got back in the car. And they took me back to my car. They were so wonderful to me. They said, listen, we’re even calling you to make sure you get home. It was only a mile. They walked me to my car. Then I’m driving over the causeway, and I’m saying, “What the heck just happened?” I could not go to sleep when I got home.

So then, later I got an email. They had my information and they wrote, “The prince would like you to come to an activity.” So I went to Water Mill, New York. I went to California. I went to Cipriani. Every time I went to one of his events, I’d wear a fur of some type.

I’ll never forget approaching Cipriani. They had the lights going, and they had the red carpet. And all these fans were out there waiting for people to arrive. And I was with my companion, who was dropping me off in the limo right on the red carpet. I’m walking, I kind of have my head down, and all these kids are screaming, and I hear them: “I think that’s Liz Taylor!” I had my head down and I’m laughing, I’m saying, “Oh, this is hysterical.”

What else is in your personal collection besides gowns and the boa?

I have photo albums going for every event I’ve ever attended, going back as far as 1990, so thirty-six years. Every year has as many as four albums.

And these are my dream hats. Those are kind of special, because they light up and they’re mechanical. I was offered $5,000 for this one the night of an event. My brother was like “Sell it!” I’m not selling it, but it’s a vintage carousel and it goes around and lights up.

Why do you love dressing up so much?

I don’t do it to attract people. I dress for me. I don’t dress for the man I’m with. I don’t dress for attention. I dress because it makes me feel like a woman. I love being a woman.

You keep mentioning a companion. Who is your companion?

I keep my private life private. It gets too invasive. Once, I had dinner with John Ratzenberger from “Cheers.” He was friends with Vin Di Bona. He was just divorced in 2004. He said, Mikki, let’s go somewhere out of town. I said, “We’re going to go to Simpatico in Jamestown.” I called them first, I said, “I’m bringing somebody.” I said, “I want privacy.” So the funniest thing is that we get there, we sat at a high top in the back. We hadn’t even ordered a drink yet, and some guy comes over. For the next hour, I think four people approached us. “Oh, I have a bet with my wife. She says, you’re John Ratzenberger.” So then I said, “I’m gonna bring you to a place that no one’s going to know who you are.” The Narragansett; The Ganny. So we get up to leave Simpatico, and it was like out of a movie. The whole place went silent. Everyone took out cameras to take pictures. People are putting out their hands to shake his hand. It was crazy. I said, “How can you live like this?” He said, “I am one of the lucky ones. There are people in Hollywood who can’t even leave their house.” I get a taste of that feeling now with people who like to have their photo taken with me at events. It’s very flattering to be able to make people happy.

So after all the places you’ve gone, what’s one life lesson you have learned?

Looking back, I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t make dinner for someone that I randomly met in downtown Newport. It was who I call “Mr. Palm Beach,” Dick Robinson, who founded the Connecticut School of Broadcasting and owns Robinson Media Group. He does incredible charity work in Palm Beach. He and his wife loved my car, a Chrysler 300, and we struck up a conversation. I invited them to dinner and cooked them an Italian homecooked meal. We’re on the patio and he invites me to the Red Cross Ball in Palm Beach as their guest. Lo and behold, that was the night I was sat with the famous Miami Beach jewelry designer Silvio Hidalgo and his mother, who invited me to his fabulous five-day birthday celebration at the Ritz-Carlton in Paris. You never know who you’re going to meet. I never planned anything in my life. In order to get out in the world and really see what life’s all about, I recommend that people go to charity events. You meet people from all walks of life that can open up doors. It exposes you to ways of life that you would not otherwise see.

And one last fashion tip?

A lot of people dress for other people. Or how they perceive people will like them. You can’t do that. People say to me, “When you walk in a room, you have a look about you.” You know why? That’s because I feel confident in how I look. It’s got nothing to do with being smart or being pretty. That’s why clothing is so important. You portray your inner self.