fall forward; Come autumn, these are the three rising labels to watch and wear.(Boy, Avion feminin, Jeremy Laing)

1. boy

Scott Sternberg makes change look easy, having forayed from menswear to womenswear as seamlessly as he did from film to fashion. After a stint as a CAA agent in 1997, the 32-year-old began designing his preppy-cool men's line, Band of Outsiders, whose slim-fitted shirts and skinny ties quickly won favor among understated influentials such as Nicolas Ghesquiere and Jake Gyllenhaal. When Barneys New York came calling for a line of women's shirts (staff and customers yearning alike), Sternberg instead created a 22-piece capsule collection, which he ironically named Boy, set to launch this fall.

"It is nostalgic more than anything," says the Los Angeleno. "It is about playing with this notion of memory, not in an over-the-top way, but a subtle way." The well-tailored line, rooted in the basic idea of "boys' clothes for girls," has a purposely contrived English-schoolboy theme, consisting of long, mannish waistcoats and shrunken blazers. Primarily, though, it's a broad selection of classic oxfords, in traditional menswear fabrics, that are slightly off-a sleeve that extends just beyond the wrist here, an unexpected mustard hue there-and may herald a drop in women filching a boyfriend's shirt (for authenticity, buttons are placed down the right side). The draw for Sternberg was the non-overt sex appeal of masculine clothing-less advertisement than attitude.

"Boy is a disposition," he says. "I believe that this is the way women have always dressed and the way women will always dress-for a certain mood. And that is pretty democratic."-sara moonves

_2._avion feminin

In New York designer Katherine Tsina's West Village apartment/studio/workshop, a mid-century industrial sewing machine is situated in close/charming/comic proximity to the bathroom sink. Her "showroom," framed by two wooden rolling racks on which her scrupulous collection of balletic dresses and prim separates hangs, barely conceals the bed, desk, and kitchen. What stands out-besides her clothes, with their faux French cuffs, pretty lines, and polished seams-is a large, tutu-shaped tulle lampshade.

"It was a gift from someone who holds yard sales in the neighborhood," says Tsina, laughing, half-embarrassed. "He must have seen me walking around the city in my dance clothes."