I’ll admit that yes, as I walked toward Pravda Studios yesterday morning just before 11:30, my mind did flash on the fashion week-obsessed style blogs (Jak & Jil, Sartorialist, Garance Dore, Altamira) I "read" with religious regularity.

Was that Kate’s short, icy-blond shag? Were those Carine’s studded, open-toed, ankle-boot platforms inching out of that Mercedes? Okay, so I didn’t actually see any studded, open-toed, ankle-boot platforms, but I did see some hot studded platforms and fiery spike-heeled ankle boots. And that was before the show.

We — the fiercely well-shod and I — were at Pravda for a Neiman Marcus pre-launch (the new store in Bellevue opens September 09) fashion show featuring Zac Posen and his fall/winter 09 collection.

Even as I scanned the crowd for Kanye and Anna and appreciated the leather leggings to my right and the ironically demure dove gray crocodile clutch to my left, once the show began, I was in Paris circa 1946. As much as I’m accustomed to sitting ringside to the runway (which is to say, it doesn’t happen all that often around here, but spring/summer tis definitely the season), I’m accustomed to it happening at night. The daylight, the intimate setting, the polite golf-course clapping, and the soft, moody piano music – taped from the live, five-piano performance that accompanied Posen’s collection when it was shown in New York – ferried me off the Hill and far away. And then, of course, there were the unquiet gowns, antique-feeling dresses and romantic separates, and almost dangerous accessories. The collection was an orchestrated mash-up of structured Victorian lines, war-torn silk florals, Stevie Nicks sleeves, and Dynasty shoulders—studded, literally, with Harley-riding, heavy-metal, night-in-shiny armor, industrial accents.

When I sat with him for a few minutes backstage before the show, Mr. Posen, small, girlishly handsome or boyishly pretty (you choose), quick, and properly aloof (what did you expect?), told me that it was industry—and the economy—that inspired the soft, body-loving structures and lines. The times called for efficiency, machinery, and cost-effective corners. Yet this manufactured couture idea yielded a surprising show of that "artist’s hand" thing that we don’t typically expect or stumble upon when the directive is so overtly un-handmade. We saw it yesterday—and you’ll see it at Neiman Marcus next season, in the elegant patchwork of a dramatic slate-gray gown, asymmetrical shapes that jut off shoulders and drape down legs, and in shimmery metal-like textured silk moire.

In the end, engaged in an informal post-runway chat with Ken Downing, the Burien native and high-profile fashion director of the soon-to-open department store, it was that shimmer that the designer connected to Seattle.

"I think it looks good in the light of your city," he told Downing as he smiled and glanced slyly out the window to refer to the first gray day in three weeks. "I like how things that are reflective look in diffused light."

The small crowd laughed politely, but, judging from the clamor that resulted when garment racks of the goods were rolled out for the "shopping" portion of the affair, we like it too.

Shine on.