Into the spirit

In New York, the fashion shows at Bryant Park have been a ritual for 10 years, and along with them the jaded “I’ll stab you with my stiletto if you get in my way” attitude. But this week at Smashbox Studios, fashion was arriving in L.A. -- in fits and starts -- for the first time. And everyone from the parking lot shuttle driver to the wannabe actor working catering was getting into the spirit.

Culver City policemen, hired by a private security firm to work during their off-duty hours, were flirting with long-legged babes waiting for their cars in the valet line. “Ma’am, you can’t block traffic,” an officer said to a woman lingering too long in her black SUV. “Can I make a U-turn then?” she asked. “You can do whatever you want,” he said with a pearly smile. “Thanks, darling!” she said, whipping around.

Later, two of Culver City’s finest helped a blond volunteer in the Mercedes-Benz VIP lounge play an April Fools’ Day joke on her dad. They used her cellphone to call him, planning to say they had her in the slammer. But he wasn’t home.

It was all part of the congenial, diva-free atmosphere that has marked fashion week here, where applause comes loud and often. Among the more seasoned observers (New York-based buyers and press, of which the number here this week can be counted on two hands, if that), critiquing L.A.’s lumbering models was sport at first. But even that wore thin after a while, considering everyone’s sunny dispositions. (Could there be something in all that free Evian?) Caroline D’Amore, a coltish model-actress with a long brown mane, looked ridiculous for the first couple of days, hamming it up for the cameras every time she took a spin at runway’s end. But by Thursday, she had endeared herself, even though she looks like the snot in high school that you hoped would get caught kissing the ugly kid. She’s our own little Giselle, smacking of her attitude, but half her height.

On the runway, the second and third day of the shows were dominated by Rami Kashou’s breakthrough collection, in which the clothes were so sublime, everything else seemed to melt away. Gone were the exaggerated fringe and harem pants that have bogged him down in past seasons; there were things here that were wearable, and some for the red carpet too. For daytime, a gray cotton/rayon wrap sweater with a stand-up mandarin collar had the look of a jacket but the ease of a sweater; it was worn over a matching pencil skirt.

Moving into evening, a silver silk jersey blouse had a dramatic open back, like the eye of a storm, and was paired with gray denim trousers with diagonal seams around the legs. Lime jersey was draped across the torso, twisted, braided and wound around the shoulders to make a vest fit for a warrior goddess. And Kashou’s “Garbo Gown,” in silver silk jersey with long sleeves, straps crossed in back, and ruffles from here to tomorrow, was one of the season’s most stunning.

Sweater dresses may make a comeback thanks to Heike Jarick. One of her most beautiful pieces came in fuchsia mohair, with silk ruffles running diagonally across the chest, and long sleeves slashed open. The designer, a graduate of Central Saint Martin’s in London who now lives in New York, said she also wanted to offer women convertible pieces, such as a jacket in heathered pink and red mohair that can be unzipped into a cape. Her sleek white suit jackets with angled cuffs and jodphur pants, paired with fabulous hats by Christophe Coppens that were painted with images of animal faces, were also intriguing.

Trina Turk didn’t veer from her nostalgic, ladylike aesthetic, which fits with what’s happening in fashion this season. Instead of a runway show, she hosted a cocktail party with tableaux vivants at her chic new Kelly Wuerstler-designed boutique on West 3rd Street. A model lounged on a leatherette chaise in a velvet pencil skirt in a black-and-white vintage cabbage rose print (the print also comes in fuchsia and black, in a jacket, a dress and cropped pants). In another scene, a model in a sweet-as-candy rainbow striped wool coat with patch pockets and a matching skirt with an “O-ring” zipper in front gazed lovingly at a taxidermied cat.

A tiered dress of silk georgette in a print dotted with tiny bows was cute, and a trench in a wood-grain print was retro cool. There were plenty of faux fur stoles and pastel cashmere shrugs to complete the look, which Turk said was inspired by “The Beverly Hillbillies’ ” “always-put-together” Jane Hathaway. The designer also showed her new purse line, including a black metal frame bag with a short handle and a pink racing stripe down the side.

Custo’s Custodio Dalmau brought in the big guns for his show. He flew in Alek Wek, one of the biggest-name models working today. Her talent was an asset, but the clothes were too. At last, the line has gone beyond graphic T-shirts to tailored separates, including a white coat in a black-and-white Op Art print and a color-blocked hobo bag.

Nabel Jaber, who counts Mick Jagger and Angelina Jolie among fans of his Lords label, showed smartly tailored suits -- for men and women -- with a slim, rock star silhouette that was pure L.A., in deerskin leather, pink-and-black pinstripe or royal blue silk. What made the pieces special were details such as single darts on the backs of jackets, tooled silver buckles on the sides of pants, and the pilled and pulled effect Jaber created on sweaters.

Tomer Gendler, who came from Austin to show, also worked some interesting details into his first Tomer menswear show -- shirt plackets designed to button across a necktie, and double shirt collars (one collar turns up, one lies flat). Don’t you wish you had those in high school?

Erica Davies, a Richard Tyler and Marc Jacobs alum, didn’t move much past last season’s collection with her studded silk satin jersey tank tops and backless halter dresses. Even the presentation -- a short film -- was the same. It would have been nice to see something new from such a promising talent.

Pegah Anvarian continued to offer jersey separates, such as tube-top minidresses that settle around the middle like the spare tire one cannot have if one is ever going to consider wearing anything by Pegah Anvarian. But now that several jersey girls have shown this week, working in an almost indistinguishable aesthetic, the question must be asked: How long can a business be sustained on this one look?

Octavio Carlin’s eveningwear for Naqada was a fresh surprise, particularly a red silk charmeuse gown gathered at the bust and with a frisee of silk chiffon in the back.

Frankie B.’s Daniella Clarke didn’t offer much to surprise her denim devotees, again revisiting the 1970s with baby-doll tops in an earthy print shot with Lurex, paired with low-riding jeans, though not quite as low as in seasons past.

At Samora, the single-named designer showed a playful use of color: short, flirty dresses, halter tops and skirts in a silk print of leopard spots and marbleized stripes, and a tangerine duster coat embroidered with loops of yarn.

Designer Jenni Kayne, whom the fashion week publication the Daily called an “FAO Schwarz heiress,” drew the largest celebrity crowd of the week (Dustin Hoffman, Farrah Fawcett, Jared Leto, Jack Osbourne). Unfortunately, the collection didn’t live up to the hype. A silver sequin drawstring skirt hung from the hips like a sack; a black velvet jacket with bulbous sleeves that extended past the fingertips made the models look like rag dolls; and a halter gown in a red-and-gold poinsettia-like floral brought to mind drugstore Christmas paper. Sometimes, no amount of wrapping can save a bad package. But at 21, Kayne is still young, and so are the L.A. shows.