Hope and grandpa sweaters at New York Fashion Week

Even those who rarely err on the side of tastelessness went a little wild this season: Ralph Lauren added some much-needed spice to his classic WASP style by pairing silk, paisley ball gowns with leather belts and patchwork tweed jackets. The lady met the tramp here, but the result was surprisingly elegant - though unlikely to end up in its entirety on the red carpet.

Toward the end of his show, Lauren's collection broke out into a snowstorm of white: an unusual - some might say scandalous - departure for fall that only worked because of the artful manipulation of fur: Though it would be easy to get caught up in optimism, the heaviness of the fur prevented the clothes from becoming too ethereal.

What stood out most from Lauren's collection were the combinations of different textures and fabrics: Silk, velvet, tweed, wool, tulle, fur and leather were mixed together with great success. Especially noteworthy was one of his trademark golden beaded halter tops, paired with a leather belt and a goddess-like, floor-length white silk skirt that split as the model walked.

Designer Tracy Reese, whose funky beaded concoctions are normally as different from Lauren's creations as possible, used similar blending techniques for her outrageously nerdy collection. Gold lame peeped out from underneath a purple jersey dress, cinched to the side in a manner reminiscent of 1929, while a wondrously fitted lavender blazer topped off a flowery printed dress with a dropped waist. Reese complimented many of the outfits with black plastic-framed glasses and knee-high black socks, making even the most sophisticated ensemble seem rather naughty and schoolgirlish.

Similarly, Anna Sui gave up all attempts at restraint, designing clothes that couldn't have looked more randomly thrown together if the models had dived into a pile of Salvation Army remnants and emerged fully clothed on the other side. This worked in some cases - like a ruched dark floral dress with striped brown-and-red tights, cowboy boots and a cropped tweed jacket with the most fascinating semi-circle cut - and completely failed in others - like a bright pink get-up with purple tights and a large throat buckle that looked like the spawn of Annie Oakley and Barney.

The spirit of experimentation didn't necessarily extend beyond the tried-and-true designers most comfortable within the tents. For Jason Wu - who became famous overnight after designing the gown Michelle Obama '85, wore to the inaugural balls - the spotlight still seems precarious. His dresses were - to use perhaps the worst profanity in the fashion vocabulary - pretty. Of course, everything was exceedingly well-tailored, and some of the pieces, like a canary-yellow dress with black embroidery, showed originality. But there was a commercial aspect to it all that gave the show an unpleasant aftertaste.

On the other hand, Christian Cota, a favorite among up-and-coming designers, was more daring in his collection, which was refined without losing its youthful flair. Using muted colors, Cota created some marvelous designs, like a black-and-white skirt that swirled and folded in a manner that was very Oscar de la Renta and a bronze cocktail dress that was a brilliant perversion of the hackneyed Grecian style.

In the end, however, it was an old-timer who made the most memorable impression this Fashion Week: Nothing could defy the power of the recession better than Isaac Mizrahi's show, "Smile," with its collection of sickeningly cheerful mismatched prints.

True, the clothes themselves weren't particularly exciting. Yellow, naturally, was everywhere, as were both rainbow-colored grandpa sweaters over loose silk pants and shapeless smocks haphazardly pulled together with belts. In fact, as a whole, the collection looked like something my frumpy high school art teacher would have worn while explaining why a certain obscure German painter is the next Jackson Pollock.

But who could resist Mizrahi's message? At a time when investment bankers have to limit their trading to Fifth Avenue for Montclair, there is something undeniably fabulous about a pink picnic-blanket printed cocktail dress. And Mizrahi's adorable little handbag-hats, which would have seemed tacky in any other setting, are ideal accessories for the woman who may have lost all her money but isn't afraid to let everyone know she hasn't yet been defeated.

Hopefulness was the theme there, and Mizrahi, who has certainly seen his share of financial ups and downs, comforted us in this uncertain environment with an authority that few others could claim. "It will be all right," he seemed to say, "I've been down here before, believe me. You'll come out the other end wearing a grin and a Technicolor ball gown."