By Olivia Barker, USA TODAY  She's the most notorious Bravo  so far — and her show hasn't even premiered. Nine months after her  state dinner debut — an appearance that launched a criminal investigation and continues to make waves, including a she said/she said incident Wednesday with  — Michaele Salahi is making her TV entree Thursday, when  premieres (9 p.m. ET/PT). USA TODAY crashed an afternoon with the Energizer Barbie.  2:34 p.m.: The paparazzi may no longer be trailing her every Starbucks break, but Salahi still attracts plenty of attention, including from a pair of women walking past Jimmy Choo in Chevy Chase, Md., just north of the D.C. border. "Good luck with your show," says Wendy Block, who works down the street at Saks Fifth Avenue, where Salahi was employed as a makeup artist in the '90s, before she met her husband, Tareq Salahi, a winemaker and polo impresario.  "Oh, I love you!" chirps Salahi, posing for pictures with the women. She doles out hugs and I-love-you's as often as the rest of us give out handshakes.  "I'm recognized a lot ever since that one night," says Salahi, 44. "People think I've had only that one night."  2:42 p.m.: Salahi is still the lady in red, only today she's swapped her infamous sari for something shorter (mid-thigh) and tighter, an Herve Leger sheath that requires constant below-the-belt tugging to keep it Beltway-appropriate. And the 5-foot-10 former model (one gig was for Absolut vodka — in Pennsylvania) is still prancing around in 5-inch Jimmy Choos (black vs. gold), one of hundreds of pairs she owns. As she strides through the footwear fortress, Salahi hops from spike heel to spike heel, oohing over a sparkly silver shoetie and aahing over an over-the-knee Pretty Woman boot. "Tareq would like these," she says, pulling them over her mahogany legs. "He likes high heels. He likes sexy. He likes leather."  But the "shoe crisis" at hand is really about tonight's five premiere parties. Red will likely make its return — in the form of a custom-made Oscar de la Renta dress, fitted through the bust and poufed at the waist — but what to anchor the look? Her "miracle man" is salesman and stylist Giorgio Askew, who last year brought half the fall collection to her house 60 miles away in Hume, Va., and today steers Salahi toward something nude and patent for $695. It's sold out here, but Askew promises he'll find it at another store and have it overnighted.  Fashion in the nation's capital, typically a flats town, is evolving, Askew says. "It used to be taboo," he says. "Now, more people are likely to take the risk."  "Sometimes, people are afraid," Salahi explains. "And I've never been afraid."  3:16 p.m.: Salahi glides into a waiting white Lincoln stretch limo, her typical mode of transport. (Tareq Salahi prefers their black one — yes, they own them.) A leopard-print runner covers the floor and teeny yellow lights dot the ceiling. "This is how I roll," Salahi says, laughing, the reason, she says, for the lines etched between her eyes. She's eager to try Botox. "If it makes you feel good, I'm all for it." She's also a fan of the puffed-up lip look.  A quick lip gloss fix and talk turns to less superficial topics. After months of hunkering down in hotels (the Four Seasons is a favorite) avoiding the post-dinner media mayhem, Salahi has emerged from her 600 thread-count cocoon and is "feeling the love," though, "I wish it had come out a lot sooner.  "The media spun a lot of misinformation," says Salahi, who nonetheless doesn't regret The Night, aka The Incident. "They created characters that were fun to hate." The attacks hurt, she says. "Everyone thinks we're these fake party people." But Salahi, who says she doesn't know the status of the federal investigation into that evening, has moved on. "I'm someone — I love the world, and if you're really not liking me, I'm going to find a way to get along with you."  She's hoping to push more people to her side with the publication next month of Cirque du Salahi: Be Careful Who You Trust, a tell-all by investigative reporter Diane Dimond and which she and her husband are cooperating on.  In the meantime, she's reveling in the relatively flattering spotlight of Bravo's camera crews. "Because of my husband's lifestyle, I've spent 10 years in the back as a support of strength for him," says Salahi, a true housewife. "Now, it's been reversed."  3:57 p.m.: The Lincoln sails to a stop at the Roche Salon in Georgetown's Washington Harbour riverfront complex. Designer clothes and shoes are one thing, but "if my hair, nails and makeup aren't looking right, I won't look right," says Salahi. "This is more important to me than anything."  Salahi has been "going steady," as she puts it, with hairstylist Dennis Roche for 15 or 20 years (minus the day of The Night, when the Erwin Gomez Salon & Spa was wielding the blow dryer). Contemplating the coif he'll create for the premiere, Roche scrunches up her locks, which boast the color and wave of a My Little Pony mane. (Her hair is naturally a dirty-blond. "We prefer 'naughty blond,' " Roche clarifies.)  "Sexy is better," Roche says. "Cutesy doesn't work." He caresses her tresses with a curling iron.  "Ooh, I like this!" Salahi coos, sitting in a white lizard-embossed chair and petting her new curls. "Everyone thinks we're a city of Janet Renos, and we're not," Roche says. "People are sophisticated here. We just don't get the credit for it."  5:10 p.m.: As the limo floats to Bistro Fran?ais, a 35-year-old Washington institution and, for the past decade, a favorite post-event haunt for the Salahis, Michaele Salahi considers the Housewives of seasons past. "I like the crazy ones. They make the show." How will viewers categorize her? "I'm the high-energy spaz."  "Surprise!" Salahi squeals to a waitress inside the restaurant. Salahi is normally here at the let-down-your-hair — vs. blue-hair — hour of 1 a.m. or 2 a.m. "I get weird stuff": hardboiled eggs, unbuttered toast, unadulterated chicken breast. "I'm just a plain girl." And about the "anorexic thing" that dominates episode 1? (One of her castmates snipes about whether Salahi has an eating disorder.) Sure, she's skinny — for here. "But put me in New York or Paris and I blend."  5:36 p.m.: Her BlackBerry trills. "Lover, I've been waiting for you!" Tareq Salahi is on his way over from a meeting. The only time Michaele Salahi's voice isn't punctuated by an exclamation point is soon after, when she's discussing those first weeks after the night, when all she wanted to do was see her mom in nearby Fairfax, Va., but the frenzy of camped-out photographers prevented her.  Her face stiffens and, for a minute, she tears up. "I'm sorry I cried a little because I've been very happy," Salahi says after composing herself. "But I did go through some crazy stuff then."  A man stops in front of the window and talks through the glass, telling Salahi she looks like somebody he's known for a long time. "Like someone he's seen once or twice," Salahi jokes. "Maybe on the TV."  5:47 p.m.: Tareq Salahi walks into an equally warm welcome from the restaurant staff and orders his usual steak tartare plus a glass of Pinot Noir. Salahi, 41, is as gushy and smiley as his wife. "The Secret Service, the Department of Justice, they're all going to be downloading this book," he says of Dimond's exposé. "There's going to be shock and awe." There's also talk of a feature film about their life. "That is an opportunity that has been presented," Salahi says. But forget actors: "We want to play ourselves! We love being in front of the cameras." His grin only wavers the slightest bit when talking about his expectations for the show.  Is he anxious about how the narrative of The Night will play out? "Of course, sure."  "Why are you nervous?" counters his wife.  "Because we don't control the editing," he says.  Michaele Salahi isn't worried. "I think I'm going to look cute. And it's real."  You share in the USA TODAY community, so please keep your comments smart and civil. Don't attack other readers personally, and keep your language decent. Use the "Report Abuse" button to make a difference.
Half of the couple known as the White House party-crashers makes her Bravo debut Thursday night, and USA TODAY is there while she primps for the big event.