hey, big spenders; They wield considerable clout with their checkbooks to keep their customers satisfied and stylish.

Byline: Mark Holgate

Sarah Rutson is shaking with excitement, so much so that she can barely speak. Rutson, fashion director of Lane Crawford in Hong Kong, has been collared by a film crew outside the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris as she leaves the Lanvin show. It's Alber Elbaz's short dresses, in sportif slinky satin or with model Malgosia Bela's face shimmering on lame, that have left her feeling giddy. "I thought the collection was so modern and relevant that very little else comes close to it," she says. "It felt like the defining moment of fashion moving into the twenty-first century."

According to Rutson, Lanvin was the icing on the mille-feuille that was Paris spring 2007. After a tastefully safe New York and a somewhat stale Milan, the City of Light dished up plenty of delicious ideas about what a woman needs next in her closet. "I love that Paris hasn't given me obvious reference points," she says as her driver whizzes her to an Yves Saint Laurent appointment. "It's not Barbarella; it's not Blade Runner; it's a season of powerful, feminine clothes done with real conviction."

Rutson, a Londoner who has worked for Lane Crawford for eleven years, has spent 40-plus punishing days sourcing exactly where those clothes might be before passing on her findings to the store's buyers. She elegantly navigates her task armed with a 24/7 car service, copious amounts of candy, and her Christian Louboutins. (No matter what, Rutson is never without heels. She says she learned to really carry herself in them only quite recently, by watching toweringly tall model Romina walk the runway: The technique, reveals Rutson, is to take smaller steps and a quick flick-flick-flick of the wrists for balance.) And Rutson endures this schedule because she, like the rest of the Lane Crawford team, is dedicated to delivering exactly what the customer wants: Fashion with a capital F. "Our woman doesn't care about replenishing basics," sighs Rutson. "Thank God for her. I say that every day."

As Rutson strides into YSL, she says that its latest collection is another of her Paris hits. But her love isn't unconditional: She's concerned that some of the fabrics designer Stefano Pilati uses, beautiful though they are, will be too heavy for humid Hong Kong. She's particularly keen to see the black-and-white checked looks that opened the show. Rutson riffles through the racks. She had marked a red full jacket and check pencil skirt-only to find the skirt works but the jacket is too heavy. Instead, she replaces the red with a similar, lighter style in purple. Plus, the color scores. "Our woman," says Rutson, "loves a jewel tone." She also likes the re_imaginings of le smoking, in the form of a bib-front dress and a jumpsuit. They're eye-catching and anything but classic-qualities that always tick all the right boxes back home.

Next, she reviews the accessories. YSL is currently one of Lane Crawford's strongest performers in this area-and the store sees no reason the label can't go further. Rutson deliberates over the platforms before choosing the Tribute in red. They're staggeringly high, yet she ignores the less vertiginous heights on offer. "I am not into 'lady' versions," sniffs Rutson. "Either do it or don't." Likewise, she demurs on the smaller-size check Downtown bag in favor of the bigger option.

At this point, Rutson quashes Misconception A about Asia-that anything too enormous or voluminous won't sell where women tend to be more petite than their Western sisters. Some of fashion's recent experiments in scale have actually proved extremely popular, such as this past fall's oversize sweaters worn with leggings and chunky ankle boots. Rutson picks up the Downtown, which even against her five-foot-ten frame looks substantial. (Despite the fact that she stands head and shoulders above many customers at Lane Crawford, Rutson has been long trusted to ...