It’d be easy to confuse Asher Levine’s Tribeca basement studio for a special effects laboratory rather than the work space and showroom of one of Hollywood’s favorite emerging menswear designers.

Inside the door stands a cloaked and hooded figure in a red-ribbed death mask. Farther back, there is an assortment of horror-movie ephemera hanging from the ceiling and lying in glass cases: skull-shaped caps, rubbery monster gloves and a gigantic mold of what looks like a tyrannosaurus egg. In the middle of the room, veined human-size bat wings bloom out of slim leather jacket, a grotesquely beautiful Alexander McQueen vision in polyurethane.

On the Tuesday before New York’s Fashion Week, a group of young men joked around in the studio, taking off their clothes to show off tattoos and abdominal muscles. Unlike their female counterparts, these models come in varied sizes and ages: there was a 6-foot-4, soft-spoken Channing Tatum lookalike who was only 16, a 38-year-old with a grizzled two-day beard and a meaty build, and the emaciated blond Beau, who resembled Pete Doherty as rendered by Larry Clark.

“Don’t let anyone tell you that girl and boy models are the same,” explained one hunk. “We don’t have eating problems, and we know that you don’t mix Adderall with Molly.” (Molly is a pure form of the synthetic drug Ecstasy.)

Half the models claimed to know the downtown designer personally, even as Mr. Levine—a 24-year-old who could be a model himself, discounting his height—slipped into his studio unnoticed and walked right past them.

In the past three years, Asher Levine has risen to cult celebrity status, or at least to cult status among celebrities. His costumes have been worn by the Black Eyed Peas, Bruno Mars, the Scissor Sisters, Jared Leto and, most famously, Lady Gaga, who was chicly adorned in Mr. Levine’s straitjacket-inspired dress during a 2010 paparazzo clash and poured into a Levine-designed post-apocalyptic black rubber body-hugger in her “Marry the Night” video.

Mr. Levine began his label by using himself as a sandwich board, biking around the West Village in “the most outrageous leotards and wrestling singlets of neon colors,” recalled artist Slava Mogutin, a friend and collaborator. The flashy costumes were unconventional, but his ambitions were not.

Mr. Levine graduated from Pace University with a degree in business management in 2010. Unlike many young designers who find themselves in debt and adrift before attaining commercial success, Mr. Levine is very mindful of his bottom line. He has exceeded his own projections by 50 percent each of the last three quarters, despite continually pressing his figures higher. Fueled in large part by his celebrity following, he’s gone from being a one-man design shop to overseeing approximately 35 employees, including head of production Tim Dejsiriudom and communications director Stefan Golangco.

Being business-savvy isn’t the worst thing for a designer. His company is contractually obligated to keep investors updated on emerging technologies and their possible uses in fashion. Mr. Levine writes these reports himself, along with his company’s quarterly projections. Since most of the money comes through custom designs and celebrity clients, Mr. Levine and his crew will look for the release date of a previous client’s new album—the designer gave will.i.am as an example—and plan on making something for the tour. While he also has an online store featuring bespoke creations, Mr. Levine does not currently have a ready-made line.

“We’re selling a lifestyle,” The Observer was repeatedly told by Mr. Levine, as well as by Mr. Golangco and Mr. Dejsiriudom. And though the lifestyle in question has been branded “rock star” by the team, it may as well be “futurist.”

As absurdly impractical and theatrical as some of his high-concept costumes may be, the idea behind them is a sort of 21st-century functionality. For example, Mr. Levine’s next line will feature microchips embedded in the clothing. The chip will be linked up to its owner’s cellphone, and in case you lose one or the other, you can either call your jacket or trigger your trousers to make the items beep until they are discovered.

“Imagine ... you’ll never lose your phone again,” Mr. Levine proudly told us. He's working with the software company Phone Halo to develop the project. Later, Mr. Golangco would describe the microchips as a way “to never lose a piece of Asher Levine clothing.”

Mr. Levine’s theme this season is “theatricality,” an apt description for a floppy vest-and-pants combination made out of black silicone and a neoprene compound. (“It’s kind of like a wet suit,” Mr. Levine admitted.)

Inspired by one of his friends, ’80s power-ballad rocker Jim Steinman, this season’s show—set in the MMAC studio on West 60th—is a twist on the lyricist’s classic “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Mr. Levine hired a animator to come up with 3D graphics for the show’s intro. And if this all sounds a touch melodramatic, you should have seen the fall show.

“Last season, we held the whole production on a yacht off the pier,” Mr. Dejsiriudom, a small, stylish pixie boy, told The Observer. Turn around, bright eyes.

The season before that, Mr. Levine tapped into the then-unheard-of trend of 3D printing, with models sporting eyewear from MakerBot. The founders of the additive manufacturing company were in attendance along with their machines, and after the performance, audience members were encouraged to go up and get a tutorial on the cutting-edge technology.

On Saturday evening, the basement studio was unusually quiet for a fashion house three days before showtime—the Asher Levine show was slated for Tuesday night at 7 p.m.—and though people kept paying lip service to how “insane” everything was, the subterranean experience was almost cozy.

Mr. Levine was unperturbed when he found out that instead of 12 looks for the show this season, stylist Andrew Mukamal had mixed and matched the outfits—which ranged from a wool sweater inlaid with rubber diamonds to an oversized cape with an unusually large, stiff cowl—to a final 16.

“Oh,” said Mr. Levine, sporting a homemade tie-dyed terry sweater that he would wear all week. “That’s really great.” Mr. Golangco was less pleased, as he now had to find at least two more models.

Pizza and Thai food were ordered, the interns dyed denim in giant vats on the stove and the DIY dynamic was palpable: everyone pulling together to create a large artistic experience. The scene could have taken place in Bushwick, except for the fact that no one was worried about bedbugs.

Expected at the show was the eclectic mix of VIPs, trendsetters and fashion journalists who have become part of Levine’s fan base. Angela Simmons, rap star Waka Flocka, skate star Johnny Weir, fashion editor Eddie Roche, luxury lifestyle consultant Jesse Garza, Bruce Pask and Jason Rider of T Magazine. Longtime fan and friend Jared Leto isn’t on the list for this season’s show, but he has been in the front row for seasons prior.

Fataah Dihaan, creative director of the art video website ARCADE 44, spoke of Mr. Levine’s following: “Sure, you’ll see Jared Leto at the shows, but then there’s those kids on the club scene, they’re constantly wearing Asher Levine. They’re creating trends in the social/nightlife scene, and those kids have their pulse on what’s going to be next.”

For Mr. Levine and his crew, “next” means looking toward how they plan on selling their product. “We’d love to get into a high concept store like L’eclaireur in Paris, or Barneys, or I.T. in Hong Kong,” Mr. Dejsiriudom told us. “All the high-concept stores.” Mr. Levine also told The Observer that he’d like to see his line sold on Fab.com.

“All these online stores, that’s the future,” Mr. Levine said, returning to his bat jacket, which had spouted six new wings since we first arrived. “That’s where a lot of emerging designers should be looking.”

He should know.

An exclusive backstage photo from The Observer's Wang-insider/tipster.

American fashion design has seen an exciting new crop of talented youngsters creep onto the scene. Creatives such as Joseph Altuzarra, Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez of Proenza Schouler, Alexander Wang, Jason Wu and Prabal Gurung have received a great deal of attention—and rightfully so. The majority of this bunch thrive on fanfare—not always on the design of their clothes, but on their front-rows, frantic check-ins and backstage dramas.

The Proenza Schouler duo, after several seemingly shaky years, have quickly become darlings of the global fashion elite, continually present interesting and attractive collections. Now sitting more comfortably with financial investments from Theory Group’s Andrew Rosen and a glossy new David Adjaye-designed boutique (albeit too damn dark to see any of the merch), its safe to say they are no longer emerging.

Mr. Altuzarra’s nomadic, opulent materials and prints seem to satiate the critics. Since PR Consulting has never invited us to one of his magical shows, we’ll let him be.

Jason Wu’s nearly flawless technique and practical glamour—not to mention being a favorite of first lady Michelle Obama—means he’s fine and dandy.

Same for Thakoon Panichgul.

The Observer will save Prabal Gurung, whose miscellaneous but splendid collection delivered a meager dose of sensationalism, mostly by way of models, for later …

The most interesting “up-and-coming” designer to The Observer is Mr. Wang.

Alexander Wang’s street-friendly sportswear, with its less daunting price tag and edgy wearability, enabled the designer’s swift and massive surge to the top. The party vixen created clothing that catered to his entourage of downtown creatures—models, anorexic rich brats, svelte power gays, artsy drunks—with a cost-effective production (even though a lawsuit claims allegations of sweatshop conditions!). It's no Ralph Lauren or Michael Kors, but the Soho boutique is crawling with new money eager to pounce, and one insider reported that sales are robust.

“He came on the scene just at the right time,” former Barneys bigwig Julie Gilhart was quoted as saying in New York magazine in 2011. Indeed he did.

The Observer is all too guilty of getting wrapped up in the Wang mystique. His shows are electrifying—a circus of outré celebs, aggressive fashion mavens and top-notch models. It’s sensationalism—perhaps even smoke and mirrors, except there is always something to covet. This is followed by the perennial blackout nights of mayhem at his costly, booze-fueled after-parties. But hey! Mr. Wang and his baby empire can afford it.

Look 14: Jordan Dunn. (PMc)

This season, Mr. Wang and his team returned to Pier 94. Tyson Chandler, Karen Elson, Justin Theroux, Sia, ASAP Rocky and Die Antwoord all showed up Saturday, September 8 to witness Mr. Wang's presentation of patch pocket separates, outerwear pieces with cut-outs or “zebra-embroidery,” and weird textured skirts and shorts in onyx, glacier white and desert sand. There were hints of menswear tailoring on shirts, fishline craziness and skeletal knee-high sandals that had people clawing with desire. For luxurious touches, Mr. Wang and co. used stingray detailing and crocodile beading.

It would be nearly impossible to top of the pack of supermodels, led by Gisele Bündchen, who stormed the runway at last year’s conclusion. Nonetheless, a gaggle of top models marched out in all-white looks. The lights dimmed and all their couture turned glow-in-the-dark.

The crowd ate it up like hotcakes, The Observer included. Tacky and stupidly club-kid-esque? Perhaps, but it was fashion entertainment at its American best.

But is this pot of fabulousness and spectacle about to bubble over?

One person, who wasn’t enjoying the fashion feast was New York Times critic Cathy Horyn.

“Mr. Wang ended with his white dresses being lit up like neon glow sticks, but the mood couldn’t be sustained,” Ms. Horyn wrote in the Times on September 9. “But, despite the styling of Karl Templer, who knows how to sharpen a designer’s message, Mr. Wang’s fancifully sliced-up clothes seemed to hit a wall. They had focus in terms of minimalist shape and futuristic textures, but there was no moment of uplift. A glow-stick snap of radiance isn’t enough.”

A bit harsh.

Die Antwoord Spreads the creepiness at Alexander Wang's after-party. (PMc)

The Observer would argue (not that we are deemed fit to challenge the legendary Ms. Horyn) that Mr. Wang’s shticks are exactly aligned with his boisterous lifestyle and extravagantly unfocused glamazon clientele. While we all might have been distracted by the blow-’n’-glow finale, The Observer is already sorting out the finances to scoop up a few of those garments and accessories. The scattered message rang loud and clear: Rave on!

Nina Agdal, Max Azria, Lubov Azria in Hervé Léger, Dania Ramirez and Rico Love are all smiles at The Boom Boom Room.

Rebecca Taylor was not at Lincoln Center. Had we not been slammed with events, emails, editorial projects, tweets and social babysitting of our entourage, we would have easily noted this. Rebecca Taylor was scheduled for 2 p.m. on Saturday at Highline Studios Downtown. Yet we had eagerly arrived at the Mercedes-Benz complex, bewildered and irritated. American Express to the rescue. The Observer made the smart move to get in touch with the skybox mavens for a little good old fashion week S.O.S. And rescued we were!

Within ten minutes, The Observer was ushered to the dark and stylish skybox, Champagne in hand and fruit on our plate. Amen. Keen on a break from the masses, we schmoozed with publicists, AmEx VIPs and other media gurus. Before long, we watched from our elite little post high above, as Mara Hoffman paraded her vibrant, billowy frocks and caftans down the runway.

More than content to combine work and play, we handed off our Hervé Léger seats to a cohort and hunkered down for the show, refreshed and content.

After the show, one of the producers of the lavish hideaway announced that Lubov Azria herself would address the intimate coterie for a brief discussion.

“I am his midlife crisis,” joked Ms. Azria about her fashion mogul husband.

When asked about if she had experienced any drama on the day of the show, she reported that look No. 4, Maria, had a panic attack.

“She couldn’t breathe,” Ms. Azria revealed and went on to explain that the models are teens. “That’s why they have those bodies!”

Model drama aside, Ms. Azria was composed and engaging throughout the chat.

Things got even better, when Max and Lubov Azria invited The Observer to their Fashion Week after-party later that evening, which was presented by star-power media magnets Billboard and The Hollywood Reporter. The Top of the Standard was brimming with beauty—Daisy Fuentes, models Jessica White and Jessica Hart, and Dania Ramirez sightings come to mind—but the best attraction was delivered by DJ Harley Viera-Newton and DJ Kiss who had us sloshing and swaying deep into the night.  Before our exit, we just couldn’t resist one more exchange with Ms. Azria and dove in for a kiss-kiss, which she gracefully welcomed.

The defendant, Jennifer Eymere. (Patrick McMullan)

Fashion Week has gotten so violent this year! First we had the news of Milk Studios founder Mazdack Rassi getting sucker-punched at the Alexander Wang after party, and now PR maven Lynn Tesoro has slapped Jennifer Eymere, editor of the French magazine Jalouse with a million-dollar lawsuit for physically assaulting her at the Zac Posen show last weekend.

The dust-up began on Sunday, when the fire department yanked 60 seats from the front row of Avery Fisher Hall, causing VIPs to lose their seats for Posen's spring collection. One of these people happened to be Jalouse’s publisher--and Ms. Eyemere's mother--Marie-Jose Susskind-Jalou.

Ms. Tesero, whose firm HL Group has Mr. Posen as a client, was trying to explain the situation to disgruntled fashionistas, but Ms. Eymere didn't appreciate the tone the flack was using with her parent. As Ms. Eymere told WWD:

"I said 'Don't speak to my mom like this ... Be careful. I am going to slap you.' And she kept doing it and it just happened."

In just 72 hours, Ms. Tesero had filed a suit for $1 million against Ms. Eymere, for "assault, battery, emotional distress, slander and/or libel."

And who said fashion doesn't pay?

Teen Vogue's Andrew Bevan and Bryan Boy are besties at Jason Wu's runway show.

“We did a cover story on you—did you ever get to read that?” The Observer asked flamboyant blogger sensation, America's Next Top Model judge and jet-setting front-row fixture, BryanBoy (Bryan Grey-Yambao), before taking our seats at Yigal Azrouël’s spring 2013 fashion show on Friday, September 7.

"No, no!” Mr. Grey-Yambao replied uneasily, shifting from side to side in a colorful plaid Marni top.

We were referencing Jenna Sauers’s sensationally delicious article, “How Fashion Blogger BryanBoy Became a Front-Row Fixture,” which ran in The Observer’s February fashion week edition.

We had extreme doubts that Mr. Grey-Yambao had never read the exposé, which detailed his frivolous lifestyle, bizarre ascension to the top of the fashion blogosphere and mysterious background.

“Do you know anything about The Observer at all?” we pressed onward

“Yes, of course! Someone emailed me about working with you guys for fashion week coverage.” [Editor's note: And we never heard back!]

Seeing that we were making little progress we moved on to other senseless bavard that fashion week victims inevitably resort to when one must pretend to care about the redundant and endlessly egotistical parade of style.

“So you’ve been everywhere. What has been your favorite so far?” we asked.

“I really liked Jason Wu!”

Predictable.

“Peter Som is my favorite, I really love the python," Mr. Grey-Yambao continued enthusiastically and with considerably more ease than when we had attempted to interrogate him about The Observer’s profile on him. Fashionistas don’t like skeletons in their closets, they prefer Pucci and Céline; skeletons are best left for the runway.

“Tell us about Yigal,” The Observer asked, trying to add some relevancy to the conversation.

“He’s very contemporary and women can wear it on a day to day basis,” Mr. Grey-Yambao answered.

“How are you combatting the heat?” we questioned, sweat beading on our brow

“Drink a lot of water. I’m so thirsty! I drink a lot of water and try to sit and remain calm,” he said.

Lies! You’ve been escorted in a meticulously climate-controlled town car between each show. Try rushing from show to show on the MTA and clammy taxis.

Annoyed we retreated to our seats to be miserably bored by someone else.

Alicia Keys eyes the Edun collection. (PMc)

It’s not every day that you discover a makeshift organic fruit and cider farmer’s market stand outside a fashion show. But that’s precisely what had been constructed outside Skylight at Moynihan Station at EDUN’s spring 2013 runway presentation this past Saturday afternoon. Breezy Hill Orchards of Staatsburg, New York was stocked with the dozens of varietals of pears and apples freshly picked. Before the show, sweaty fashion editors, stylists and buyers could take a refreshing sip of apple cider. It was a smart pairing considering that Edun, which was founded by Ali Hewson and U2’s Bono, works with African manufacturers to give them an economic boost. Naturally the majority of attendees beelined it to their seats, but The Observer gulped down a bottle before the show.

Seating was a bit frenzied and the arrival of songstress Alicia Keys didn’t help, but eventually we took in the Mali and safari-chic theme of Edun creative director Sharon Wauchob’s collection, with etched florals, mud-dyed cotton and silk and military accents.

"At Edun we believe that real style has substance. We founded the company to bring trade to Africa,” explained Ms. Hewson. “This season we are proud to say we are on track to reach our goal of producing 40 percent of the collection in Africa."

Commerce-for-developing-nations-mission accomplished.

"We [EDUN] loved the idea of working with an organic farmer's market stand. We wanted to do it last season, but the weather was so harsh the day of our show!” Ms. Hewson told The Observer afterward.

“September is the perfect time to enjoy the fruits of our surrounding farming community and of course, in EDUN, apples are close to our hearts.”

To The Observer’s chagrin, once it became apparent that everything at the farm stand was gratis, the crowd dove like hawks attacking prey. Grabbing bags of apples and even scarfing down homemade doughnuts. It’s a rare sighting to behold the fashion frenzy nibble even raw almonds or a Fiber One bar, but doughnuts? Impressive!

The atmosphere of American Express Skybox. (Photo by Bryan Bedder/Getty Images for American Express)

“We like that you feel a little chaotic and it’s all very well planned,” explained a representative from American Express. “This is an opportunity for us to give back to our premium card members who are passionate and we are giving them a very immersive experience, as you can see, with the models running around.”

Cardmembers are spoiled with backstage tours, coups de Champagne and a gourmet spread worthy of a sultan.

“They get rushed into a show right as it is about to begin and then the best part is that after the show they get to come back into the studio and the designer comes in for a Q&A,” we were informed by one of our hosts.

The Observer threw back a few a glasses in the sun-lit salon that had been tastefully decorated with cozy loungers and a private hair salon replete with stylists, before we were ushered to the front-row of Cushnie et Ochs’s runway presentation last Friday.

The exclusive experience isn’t for your average chum. Wealthy Centurion and Platinum cardholders pony up big bucks for the VIP packages backstage at Milk Studios and in the Skybox at Lincoln Center. For this fourth incarnation of AmEx at MADE at Milk, members from Los Angeles, Dallas and even London jetted into New York for as briefly as one day of fashion shows and boozy, behind-the-scenes action.

The view from the Skybox

These folks avoid the lengthy delays of press check-in, horrendous fashion personalities and truthful banality that fashion week quickly becomes. In fact, the VIP experience utterly fabulous, if not downright obliviously serene. The Observer was more than content to dip our cup deep in the well and indulge.

“It’s pretty smooth sailing,” one well-dressed AmEx staffer confessed.

Indeed it was, perhaps the most relaxed we would be for a very long time, during a very fussy week.

It’s not all about lucrative and getting chumming with top-notch clients. American Express actually makes efforts to do some good. In addition to providing support for emerging designers through its partnership with MADE the company contributed a hefty $250,000 donation to the CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund, a program of the Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA), we were told.

Thursday, September 13, American Express cardmembers will get to canoodle with celebrity stylist and reality show empress Rachel Zoe and experience a special runway show. “It's going to be an incredibly fun and fashionable evening,” forecasted Ms. Zoe.

We’ll of course be on the scene and fill you in on precisely all that goes down.

Screengrab. From left: Andrew Warren, Serena Marron, Peter Brant II, and Nick Gruber.

Friday, opening night at pop-up club Chez André at The Standard, East Village, found teenage dandy Peter Brant II and ex-porn star Nick Gruber, who was apparently taking a night off from writing a book and developing a TV show about his two-year relationship with Calvin Klein, on stage. The duo, joined at the mic by Andrew Warren and model Serena Marron, sang and mumbled their way through a live-band karaoke rendition of "Born to Be Wild." We have the video evidence. Arguably, it is the best version of the song ever performed. Arguably!

Kristen Chenoweth attended the Rebecca Minkoff at The Theatre Lincoln Center on September 7

Broadway star and Tony winner, Kristin Chenoweth was badly injured on the set of popular primetime CBS show The Good Wife in July. The petite star told the LA Times in September that she “had a skull fracture, rib issue and neck issue and a hip issue,” and had to be carried off in a stretcher after a lighting rig fell on her.

But this week, she has back in action for the first time, attending several runway shows in New York.

“This is my big night out after seven weeks,” the giddy and tenacious Ms. Chenoweth told The Observer at the DL 1961 fashion show last week in West Chelsea.

“I feakin' loved it!” She said about DL 1961, “I can actually wear the clothes!”

“Will you be attending any more shows?” The Observer asked

“Two more [Rebecca] Minkoff and Nanette Lepore.”

“What do you like most about fashion week?” we wanted to know.

“The artistry, I’m an artist so I appreciate other artists and design,” she chirped over the loud beats of DJ Mia Morretti.

Before bouncing away with her female entourage, Ms. Chenoweth noted that you won't find her on a banquette at the Top of the Standard or gracing Le Baron’s dance floor.

“I’m going to continue with my physical therapy and try to rest,” she revealed.

Smart move.