I have to admit it. I'm not completely enthralled.

I expected to be, as I was for Fall. Fall was like a tweed and cloche and suede orgasm. Fall was wanting to sleep with my shoes on so I could wake up and fall right back in love again. Spring is a little flat. A little saccharine, a little more than a little derivative, even a little flimsy. I see a lot of dresses, still, and strong colors (but that yellow, no one looks good in that yellow, not even Alex Wek), and voluminous pants and cinched waists, and cutesy mini things, but somehow it's not getting to me.

I heart Gwen Stefani for all sorts of reasons, but the L.A.M.B. clothes were a disappointment. They looked kind of last year, kind of badly cut shorts gotten at the mall, kind of haven't I seen this already? Part of L.A.M.B. is that secret hope that by wearing something Gwen made (presumably), you'll look like Gwen. But a day later, you look down at your thighs rubbing against the rough edge of that plaid skirt, and you look in the mirror and see that while short, the skirt makes your hips look like they start at your rib cage, and you know you      do     not       look      like      Gwen.

Certain editors would wag a bony finger and say, "There's a lesson in that." Really, sometimes it takes a designer to design designer clothes. But I'm not that trad. I'm an open-minded spectator, gullibly awaiting that wondrously cut something, and I don't care if Jessica Simpson designed it. (As if.)

What's new? Form's intense way with, well, form, is somewhat new and rings true days after the show. Miss Sixty, where the feminine got kind of edgy: The conceit of a rocker chick out for breakfast, exceedingly cool, is new in that it presents an entirely up-to-date attitude. I don't think the clothes themselves are any kind of revelation, but they're not meant to be. And it didn't hurt that Irina Lazareanu walked, exceeding everyone else in broody-doll offhanded It-ness.

Otherwise at least half of the collections so far seem like rehashes, like designers weren't sure which way to look. Let's look at the 1920s. Okay, let's do flowing trousers. And some kind of Art Deco thing. Oh, it looks kind of thin. Can you add some 1940s power to it? Let's look at the 1980s. Okay, let's do, um, everything shiny and rudely cut. Now let's do the 2000s. Okay, um, so a kind of 1970s vibe? But sort of pared down, like 1960s? Okay?

But there are things to look forward to. Temperly London. Threeasfour. And the cheap shoe! I'm going to go get me to Payless Shoesource, who now have shoes by Abeate and Lela Rose and Alice + Olivia too. There go the amazons, cantering down the runways in Payless shoes! Shoes with those labels inside, for like thirty bucks! That is great. If the shoes are, indeed, something worth wearing. Fall's Payless offerings were itsy-katsy, a little ungapatchka — something for everyone but not really everything for anyone. There were good patent sandals in brown metallic by Abaete.

That was then, however. This is now. Payless has their finger on the pulse, so watch out.

What else is new? Well, the models look happy. No one's freaking out on their  rib cages. Maybe it's because everyone's trying to figure out what's so mystifying about the clothes (hint: they're not that mystifying is what's so mystifying). Overheard in Bryant Park, regarding, of course, the models:

Woman in black A-line shift with electric blue earrings who I estimated was about 50 years old and a disciplined size 6: Don't you think they look kind of healthier, just a little?

Man in black A-line raincoat with red T-shirt and jeans underneath (the cuffs rolled up, a controversial man-move), younger, whittled, juice-fast-last-week kind of thin: Must we always have the same beyond boring little conversation? So their heads are like one-twelfth of their bodies. It's a great look.

In one amazing moment at the tents yesterday, we were all magically overshadowed by Them: a single, towering herd of these sloe-eyed gazelles clip-clopping back in after a cigarette and water break, giggling, stick-legged, remarkable. All around us observed a moment of silence as we realized how important genetics really is and how we are merely human. Then we sipped our Americanos, extra ice, and adjusted the bulky straps of our shoulder bags.

The truth is, occasionally these anomalous beauties  actually don't help the clothes: In a mango-colored slouchy gown at Yigal Azrouel a few days ago, one looked like she was wearing a nightgown and had just woken up during a slumber party to go take a pee. And the model walking in those Vena Cava ultra-flowing trousers the next day looked like she was being swallowed from below by a voluminous fish.

Enjoy.

FYI: For the whole shebang in green, white and gray (the colors of money, spring, and NYC?), see the official shebang site here.

For a fun-looking, easy-to-read, color-coded calendar of the whole 20-ring circus, incidentally with some green as well, see Paper Mag's here. 

Jana Martin is The MOLI View's contributing editor for Fashion & Design.