The Emperor's New Clothes. Seriously.

Another Ecco Domani winner, Tom Scott, seemed to be heading into troubled waters based on the description of his womenswear collection he shared a couple days before his Saturday presentation. Scott, a dark-haired fellow with a medium build and an earnest manner, described how he deconstructs his knitwear and then puts it back together in a process similar to collage or assemblage or some other fancy term for cut and paste. He mentioned how his models' hairstyles were inspired by stacks of hay. Who could resist a presentation that promised hay hair?

Scott proved that sometimes what sounds silly can be beautiful.

He had a firm hand on his inspiration, never allowing the artistic part of his personality to overtake his more rational side. His knitwear served as a perfect example of what designers mean when they talk about their work as being "organic." His sweaters are pieced together in the most natural way, as if it all happened instinctively and without a tortured thought process. The weave of his cardigans is varied and his seams sometimes look unfinished. The sweaters twist around the body as if the wearer has burrowed into them rather than merely slipped them on. They are artful, but they do not look like art projects.

Another designer who focused on knits was Victor Glemaud, who traded in his day job in fashion public relations to become a menswear designer. Glemaud is a tall, African American man with a long, narrow, Tommy Tune physique. For himself, he favors lean silhouettes, expressive colors and designs with a sense of whimsy. On the day of his show he was wearing pink pants. Looking at the collection is like peeking into Glemaud's own closet.

In a tableau vivant of 10 models, he showed boyish long johns in shades of gray but also in bright red with candy-colored ribbon snaking down the sides. The long johns were a charming way of getting around a more fundamental problem for so many new designers. He simply did not have the finances to produce the finely tailored trousers he would have liked.

Sweaters are the heart of his collection. There were cardigans in shades of green and yellow, for instance. Glemaud plays with the subtleties in the hues, mixing Kelly green with a slightly deeper forest green in a single sweater. The knitwear is spirited without being childish, practical but not boring.

On the afternoon before his Sunday evening show, the designer Phillip Lim was surprisingly calm as he talked about the inspiration for his collection. He was stuck on the word "funny," which he used to describe everything from a double-faced woolen coat in sober tan to a red patent leather bow tie.

Lim is an example of the sort of designer that the American fashion industry seems uniquely able to produce. His collection, 3.1 Phillip Lim, is fashionable but accessible. It has a singular point of view, and yet owning a piece from the collection does not require that one debate writing a check for the mortgage or a swing coat.

An overcoat from his fall collection will sell for about $700 -- a piece of information that Lim, unlike most designers, offers without prodding.

Lim said his collection is meant to appeal not only to a variety of aesthetic sensibilities but also to a range of body types.

"The clothes are never so outlandish that you feel you can't pull them off," he says. "I know that's unfashionable, but I'm not pretentious. I don't have an ego about it."

The collection was titled "Pedigree Minus Prudence," which translates into easy-to-wear shapes with oddball details and lighthearted touches that keep austere shapes from looking matronly. His full trousers are cropped, his jackets hang away from the body and swing with ease. Gray knit coats are brightened with gold studs that are used for buttons. He has mismatched buttons on a khaki overcoat and weaves slender gold chains into the cuffs of blouses.

With his collection, Lim says he's trying to express a "new modernity." He was inspired by the idea that we are products of our environment as well as products of our own imagination. And then he shrugs. He can't keep up the patter.

"I'm not an intellectual designer," he says. "At the end of the day, it comes down to 'Does it make my butt look good?' "

Yes, it does.