Marc has instilled such fear in me that I still insist on being punctual to shows even though I always (90% of the time) end up waiting 45 minutes.

So with coffee in hand I sat and watched Mark Ronson DJ for a good fifteen minutes until Rachel Zoe arrived and I could stare at her equally gorgeous nude Alaia wedges. Then I pondered Anna Wintour’s security guard. Has she always had him? Does she need him now that’s she’s a movie star? Was it for the mega necklace she was wearing over her beige dress? Bee sat next to her and I wanted to ask if she made it home with as much random candy as a I did post-Courtney Love. Olivier Zahm ended up on the floor next to Genevieve Jones, but after last night’s debaucherous Purple party I’m kind of impressed he made it at all.

We sat on pink chairs, like last season’s LV shows, in a salon set up while the models walked down a plush pink carpet. A retro, sexy stewardess look kicked everything off - including see-through plastic trenches and maribou furs before Zac went for disco with long pleated dresses and vibrant prints. Rachel Zoe was on, “I die” repeat in my head. That J. Alexander was backstage instructing the girls was clear - they pranced down the carpet with hands in the air stopping and twirling twice before hitting the pit.

It was the best Monday morning I’ve ever had.

I am a big fan of short.

Come Spring/Summer, my dresses/skirts/shorts are as short as they can possibly be without causing a scandal. But even I’m thinking twice about the recent crop of pants-less pants.

Stella’s Spring 09 runway kicked off the trend (actually, Vlada did at SS08 McQueen). Her little suits and rompers are my dream version of office-wear (if my legs looked anything like Natasha Poly’s). Then, the pink and orange Marc by Marc romper sold out on Net-a-Porter within a day, even though it doesn’t have legs - just elastic bands and about a half-inch inseam. And last weekend, I seriously contemplated trying on these hot-pants at Urban, in navy blue, until I realized I’d really started to lose it. I have lacy boy shorts that cover more of my bottom.

— Sidenote: The office thinks I should note that I did once wear pink sequin hotpants in public for an entire night. But it was for a roller skating party and therefore I deem it irrelevant. —

But there’s a pretty consistent fashion trickle down. Starts with the runways - Stella, McQueen, Wang. Then hits the celebrities - Lady Gaga and Katie Perry ditched their trousers long ago. Then the high street - Urban, Topshop. And in no time at all, everyone from Reese Witherspoon to Williamsburg residents are running errands with their ass hanging out.

But will you?

I grew up with a dad who is fifteen minutes early to everything which means my single act of adolescent rebellion was being half an hour late to everything - something that’s generally ok in this industry.

But I’d never been to one of Marc’s shows and I was not going to be one of those distraught people stuck outside three minutes after start time because the new Marc is both fit and punctual. I gave myself one hour to go pick up my ticket, walk back to the Louvre and take my seat for the 2:30 show.

At 2:33 half the venue - a tent set up in one of the Louvre’s giant courtyards giving tour groups a major surprise - was still empty. There was an open seat behind me, in front of me, across from me and next to Carine. But sure enough, a re-mixed version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” switched on at 2:37 and the first model stormed out in a black lace number layered over a pink and blue skirt with killer shoes. Meanwhile, a couple of models in, Suzy Menkes tumbled across the runway into an open aisle seat.

The collection was like everything good in life rolled into one - if half of me wants to wear Giles everyday, the other half wants to wear this. Marc threw lace into everything, used bright lingerie over sheer neutrals, tucked metallic mini-skirts under camel pea-coats and ruched leather into retro skirt suits. There were bunny ears and giant pearl hat pins stuck into fluffy buns. The girls wore platforms and thigh-high lace-up boots. Raquel Zimmerman had on amazing blue capris with ruffles at the bottom, Catherine McNeil a Working Girl red coat and Vlada rocked the perfect shade of green.

It’s clothes - and shows - like this that make people fall in love with fashion - it was the perfect fantasy. And with that, it’s back to Brooklyn.

Under normal circumstances, if I get to a show and someone is sitting in my assigned seat, I let it go and take the next one over.

But if I get to Chanel and everyone’s name is written in impeccable calligraphy and my nameplate happens to be next to Brad’s, as in Rachel Zoe’s assistant, then I am fighting for it.

And so, after a heated discussion in the best French I could muster, I took my seventh row perch (the Grand Palais offers fancy stadium seating, about twelve rows) and wondered how to start a conversation with Brad and his red bow tie. But then I read that Kate Moss was front row, got flustered, and before I could decide if I should search for Kate or talk to Brad, Karen Elson was in front of me in black and white tweeds and a whirlwind of models stormed the glassy catwalk.

Sasha, Stam, Freja, Angela, Eniko, Vlada and company wove their way in and out of the labeled doorways, sometimes not so gracefully, in their Edwardian collars and ruffled cuffs. The collection took a turn toward the playful in the middle with pink and green knit accents - tights, bags, ribbons - on the mainly black and white collection. Jourdan carried a 2.55 encased in plastic, Lara wore a giant pink cream puff sweater and Jessica Stam’s ensemble was hip Miss Havisham.

And of course Karl threw in two healthy doses of Sebastian and the boys for good measure.

At the end, trap doors opened from every doorway and out hopped Karl in his sequined blazer smirking, as if to say, “You did not expect me, no?”

The surprise end, maybe not. But these clothes? Definitely.

“The thing about Rick is, it’s so classic. You can buy anything from the collection and wear it forever,” declared Heidi Mount pre-show at Ecole des Beaux-Artes.

One might question that judgment when the clothes are styled a la Rick and presented in a deep dark room with feathered headdresses and leather bubble boots, but overall, she’s right. Individually, his clothes are almost subtle, definitely delicate, and so brilliantly constructed.

Which is why the cream of the fashion crop swamps his shows. Today’s front row included Carine (of course, with Julia behind her), Ikram Goldman (Michelle Obama in Rick?!), Gareth Pugh, Julie Gilhart, Franca Sozzani, Kate Lanphear, Gloria Baume, Glenn O’Brien, Bill Cunningham and Morley Safer (whom I assume means Anna, though I didn’t see her). The first rate front row matched the first rate - though noticeably white - cast: Raquel, Iris, Stam, Olga, Vlada R, Ali S, Karlie, Daiane, Sasha, Heidi, Hanne - most of whom showed up wearing at least one thing Rick.

The futuristic, sometimes sparkly collection elicited actual hooting and hollering from the audience - the most excitement I’ve heard this season (aside from Chris Kane) until the Nina Ricci crowd actually broke into applause mid-show. More on that, coming up.

—PHOTOGRAPHY BY JEREMY KOST

—PHOTOGRAPHY BY JEREMY KOST

[PS This set of photos is particularly beautiful.]

Wondering who’s taking Vlada’s spot as the face of DKNY’s Spring 09 campaign?

According to NYLON, it’s New York it girl Harley Viera Newton.

The pint-size NYU student/British rock/fashion offspring might not like being called an it-girl, but she’s definitely not a model - yes, she’s signed to Elite, but that does not a model make these days - so we’re guessing she likes being an it-girl long enough to land a lucrative campaign.

She has great style and apparently great DJ skills, but we’re kind of confused about who she appeals to. Aside from those who caught her I-tie-my-scarf-on-my-bag piece in Vogue, do most consumers know who she is? And how can she sell jeans?

Maybe they’ll shoot on our street again and she’ll pleasantly surprise us.

Henry Holland’s show started about an hour late. But when the lights finally went down, the 90210 theme song blared from the speakers, so we couldn’t be mad.

The models, starting with Agyness of course and including Chanel, Julia Dunstall and some handsome British boys, pranced out of an archway built of gorgeous fresh hydrangeas. Henry’s family sat in the front row, which was maybe the cutest thing we’ve ever seen at a runway show, while Christopher Bailey perched on the back window, (actually, he might be the cutest thing we’ve ever seen at a show).

Henry’s House of Holland collection was playful, spandexy, colorful and even plain silly at times. But out of nowhere came a couple of well-constructed, totally wearable party dresses, including the baby blue petaled one worn by Ali Michael and the purple pouf Agyness wore to close the show. We wish we could have the yellow skirt Vlada wore for Vivienne Westwood tonight, or even the polka dot poufs from the end, but we’ll have to wait for spring.

Can we have Chris in the meantime?

Shortly after waking up in London for the shows this morning, I was told, “First Stop - Topshop,” and obviously jumped for joy.

But when Faran saw the glee on my face, she rephrased, “No. The Topshop show.”

OK. I could handle that.

We walked down a very long, dark concrete ramp into a warehouse-like space. Half was set up as a café with checkered picnic tablecloths, champagne and fish and chips.

Half was, of course, the runway. It was a smaller space than I expected with an awesomely disheveled Alexandra Shulman in the front row and swirly circular lights in the background. There were boxes on our seats with silk horseshoe scarves - sweet.

The Katie Grand-styled show was equal parts Crybaby, rodeo, Working Girl and Amy Winehouse. There was Vlada and there was Jourdan. There were candy colored rompers, Varsity Letter-like jackets and cardigans, denim jumpsuits and various head decorations.

If the current Topshop fare is anything like it, my credit cards can rest easy.

But I will be teasing my hair tonight.

Aww, we’re still holding out hope that DKNY used Vlada standing on our block…

Imagine our delight when we left our office yesterday to find the DKNY fall ad campaign being shot right outside our door.

At first we didn’t recognize the model at all, but after a few minutes of inspection we realized that there was a newly brunette-ish Vlada posing right across the street from us.

So we dropped everything and snapped away like a bunch of tourists, just for you, dear friends!

The stats: Vlada was bundled in a leopard hat, purple tights and bright gloves. She was forced to skip past a wind machine over and over again, Trentini style. Guido Palau was on hair duty.

According to the crew on set, the shot on Mott Street was just one of several vignettes to take place around the neighborhood. We’re hoping they got some in front of the iconic DKNY mural on Houston that will soon be no longer.

It’ll be fun to see what they turn our semi-drab block into with Photoshop. Until then, enjoy the pretty pictures.

Despite the diversity discussion off the runway this season, it seems Spring 08’s golden girl is literally the fairest of them all, at least if we’re going by ad pages.

Anja Rubik, 22, has racked up the most campaigns so far, including Valentino, Oscar de la Renta, Belstaff, DSqared, H&M, The Gap, and Neiman Marcus’ art of fashion special. She’s very cool and very gorgeous, and resembles something of a fairy princess built from stone. Like Mariacarla Boscono two years before, her new campaign rocket seems to come partly from a gutsy decision to chop off all her hair.

We suspect a close second in the campaign race will be another Fashionista favorite, Jessica Stam, who’s also blonde, pale, and stop-your-tracks gorgeous.

Meanwhile, blondie Vlada R. racked up some of the most runway miles during Fashion Week [Supermodels.nl rated her at the top of the pack, but BryanBoy did a very thorough investigation and totaled Kasia Strauss as the winner]. Regardless, both have skin that’s practically see-through, and eyes to match - just like Lily Donaldson and Snejana, both of whom also stomped many miles this season.

We really love Anja, and Stam, and we’re thrilled to see their new ads.

But the diversity discussion of the past three months seems like the skinny discussion of last year - talk that seems to send action in the opposite direction.

But there is one blonde style star who’s going for a change - Sarah Jessica Parker, whose reddish brown hair is new, yet constantly photographed around New York.

Reports this week say that Vlada Roslyakova was the most-booked model during Fashion Week this season.

Of course, we’re cringing a bit.

It’s not that Vlada doesn’t seem like a lovely person - in fact, she must be pretty cool if everyone wants to work with her.

But despite looking a tiny bit healthier in New York this season, she’s not exactly a great icon for those of us who hope fashion boosts healthy, hot models like Caroline Trentini - whose butt gets cat-called routinely on the runway by a group of young fashion editors.

Still, Vlada’s booking streak is remarkable -

Especially since it means she somehow had the energy to walk in about a hundred shows this season.

One more thing: Last year, the “most walked” title went to Irina, and a slew of campaigns followed.

Is Vlada the next poster girl for… well, for everything?

It happens every year.

Just when we’re all ready to go to the beach and sit in the sand with some magazines…

Our magazine supply dries up.

It’s the blight known as the June/July issue.

Teen Vogue does it, French Vogue does it. Even the magazines that do put out separate June and July issues often churn out a July magazine that’s thinner than Vlada Roslyakova, which makes for disappointing poolside reading.

Now that resort/ cruise has become a significant mini season (at least for sales), there’s one more reason for the editors at the glossies to bite the bullet and give us more shoots!

What are they waiting for?

Q: Was this post just another excuse to run a racy photo of Daria?

A: A little bit, yes. We’ll never get over her…

—ANNA FIELDING GRIGGS

Milan is the only big fashion city so far to adopt official model regulations: According to the Italian goverment, models must have a BMI of 18 - 22 in order to work on the catwalks. Rumors have swirled about girls bulking up - even curvy Gisele gained a reported fifteen pounds for her Dolce & Gabbana cameo.

What’s odd is the rules don’t seem to match the models. Snejana The Svelte sat out New York because of the controversy, but now she’s back at the biggest shows - Prada, Jil Sander, Burberry - and she looks envious (read: so thin). But Snejana’s not the thinnest; that honor may go to Vlada Roslyakova. Vlada’s elegant face is exquisite, but it’s hard to focus on it when her neck is gnarled in bones and little hairs stand on end from her legs (observe this photo at Just Cavalli - killer outfit, amazing face, but oh).

Fashionista does not believe that “real girls” should be on a high fashion runway - far from it. In fact, Fashionista is obsessed and in love with models, and yes, we often wish we could be one, had been one, anything that could get us on a Henry Holland shirt.

We just want to know - why do the models in Milan look thinner and sharper than ever?