your i.d., please; This fall the best designers are forgoing trends for luxurious statements that reflect their essential aesthetics.(identity)(management of Phoebe Philo)

Byline: Sally Singer

The most suspenseful show of the fall 2005 collections was that of Chloe. The designer, Phoebe Philo, had been on maternity leave for much of the season and had given her team carte blanche to execute her vision-she even chose to sit in the front row and assume the role of a spectator. This represented a huge gamble. Chloe had been at the top of its game after a brilliant spring, and for a designer to happily hand over the reins (and the runway acclaim) to her assistants was either a gesture of supreme confidence or a reckless bet with the commercial and critical goodwill earned by the house. Happily, it turned out to be the former. The collection, though not pathbreaking, was very strong. The navy coat trimmed in black velvet is the season's most desirable. Chloe's success was largely a result of the very particular and winning brand identity established by Philo in the last four years. Lacy vintage-inspired tops, unironically pretty dresses, shrunken jackets, sexily saggy trousers: This is, was, and-even in the hands of assistants-remains pure Chloe by Phoebe.

The question of identity hovered over the collections from New York to Paris. With the dollar tumbling against the euro, designers were braced for a difficult year. What would it take to get a woman in, say, Chicago, to pay $900 (or more) for a pair of trousers? The usual answer would be extreme trendiness or great dollops of glitz. This fall, however, the most seductive designers proceed in a much more subtle way. Rather than trying to be all things to all people, they are playing to their signature strengths-their essential identity-with maximum luxury (Astrakhan embroidery!) and refinement (say farewell to deconstruction). Yes, there are trends-if just to keep things amusing: discreet Hitchcock-heroine suiting (best at Roland Mouret and Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton); sheaths and flat boots with a nymphy, Twiggyish go-go chic (see especially Christian Dior and Chanel); slick, sleek, long-line coat-with-trousers suits (perfected by Nicolas Ghesquiere for Balenciaga); and the Ibsen girl, a prim, romantic look for evening (Rochas and Comme des Garcons). But this will be, above all, a fall of singular and freestanding pieces that will move out of stores on the strength of their singular merits.

In other words, nobody needs another little black dress as such, but you're not going to be able to resist a frothy little number by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel. Chanel's other great success, a quilted chain bag flattened and made of distressed leather, proved that, like the best zip codes in a real estate slump, the most iconic brands possess the most resilient value. When Donna Karan sent out a swaggering black coat with high quilted collar, it looked great and it looked quintessential. Ralph Lauren's monochromatic gray tweedy ensembles were strikingly modern and uncomplicated and right (finally, clothes to wear to work). And at Calvin Klein, where in the last few seasons Francisco Costa had flitted from one aesthetic to another, a real Calvin Klein collection came forth: lustrous, minimal, smart; trend-seekers should check out the flat boot and the funnel-neck coat for the abovementioned soupcon of the sixties.

To one side of these megabrands are what one might call the slow brands: that is, houses where the designers have strategically chosen to advance without losing sight of base camp. The silhouettes, the fabrics, and certain details recur each season, so that items from one year can be worn with those of another. Chloe is ...