sunshine states; Haute preppies (and strict dress codes) still rule on Florida's gold coast.

Byline: William Norwich

What better way to cure the wintertime blues than drinks and dinner with the always-sunny Michael Kors in Palm Beach?

In his capacity as a prince of American fashion, Michael was here to be enthroned at Saks Fifth Avenue-where there was a run on his white lace dresses and orange cashmere tunics this winter-and to attend a dinner thrown by Aerin Lauder and Marjorie Gubelmann Raein in his honor. From the brown-sugar-on-bacon hors d'oeuvres to the coconut cake for dessert, it was one of those easy, breezy Palm Beach dinners that give charm to this place-held at Marjorie's father and stepmother's house, perched ever so prettily on the Intracoastal Waterway.

Wearing mostly Michael Kors, of course, guests included Serena Boardman, Eleanor Lembo Ylvisaker, Kelly Klein and her mother, Gloria List (visiting from Santa Fe), Ginny Bond, and the Palm Beach Daily News's fashion editor, Robert Janjigian, who plays style guru to the best-dressed ladies in this part of the world. Many more came after dinner, for dancing, including the designer Steven Stolman. (Southampton's summer people will be happy to note that Steven is resuming his social column, "The Beachcomber," in a local newspaper after an absence last year, back by popular demand. Like the proverbial tree in the woods falling, with no one to hear it, the socials felt blue, but probably still tan, without their designing chronicler.)

Anyway, arriving from Miami, having spent the night in Andre Balazs's Raleigh Hotel, I checked into a room with a view, thank you very much, at the jolly Colony hotel and then motored to the Breakers hotel to meet Michael before Aerin and Marjorie's dinner.

Ah, Palm Beach. As much as it inspires one to uncork some bubbly sarcasm, I do not ever recall saying no to an invitation to visit this conservative oasis. Hypocritical, moi? What can I tell you-I follow the chic.

Here streets are so quiet, so clean, you could hear a Cartier pin drop. Traffic? That's Miami Beach. Barking dogs? Nary a grumble; aren't Palm Beach's pooches all on Prozac? So long, gray Gotham! A full moon in the star-sapphire sky tonight, and the temperature about 65 degrees, practically a heat wave for this northerner, but cold enough for the locals to grab their fun Fendi stoles in ice-cream colors and bemoan a big chill.