Falling in love with Azzedine Alaïa. (Photos via Shao-Yu Liu.)

I hate department stores. They remind me of being a chubby 12-year-old with braces being dragged around by her mother to try on bat-mitzvah dresses at the Macy’s and Bloomingdale’s located in the heart of Delaware’s Christiana Mall. (We eventually decided on an electric blue sleeveless number, and suffice to say I have vowed to burn the photobook of evidence the first chance I get.)

So sartorially misinformed was I that for many years I associated most department stores with the cheap and gawdy—obviously, I reasoned, most cool clothes come from stores that sold only their own brand, places like Ann Taylor, or Hot Topic. Up until embarrassingly recently, I didn’t understand what my so-called friends were driving at when they offered to take me shopping at Macy’s, Nordstrom’s or Bloomie’s. I just flashed back to Delaware and that blue dress and assumed that they were making some sort of ironic commentary on prom season.

But a girl can’t live in blissful ignorance forever, and by the time I was, oh, say, 28, I found out that, far from being tacky, New York’s haute couture was synonymous with, yes, Madison Avenue designer flagships, but also: Bergdorf’s, Saks Fifth Avenue and Barneys. I had never stepped into these hallowed halls of fashion. I had to take a Valium just to step into a Century 21, with its maze-like layouts, dressing room item limits and panic-inducing number of choices.

But I couldn’t wear jeans and sweaters with cat faces on them forever, and no matter how well that kitschy-cute skunk hat I had purchased last summer in South Dakota went over at a recent Broadway after party, I realized that eventually I would have to make peace with the luxury department store.

To face the minotaur, I turned to one of the world’s most knowledgeable sources: Terron Schaefer, the executive vice president and chief creative officer of Saks Fifth Avenue. Recognizable as the “Simon Cowell” (his words) of the design competition Fashion Star, where he plays the role of a Saks’ “buyer” (their words), the impeccably dressed and terrifyingly well-mannered Mr. Schaefer has spent most of his life as a Willy Wonka of haute couture retail.

Working at the marketing division of Doyle Dane Bernbach, he was in charge of clients like Harrods (where Mohamed Al-Fayed had once suggested building an indoor roller coaster to attract boys looking for school clothes), Polaroid and Bloomingdales. After a brief respite working in Cambodia for Doctors without Borders—“I needed to get as far away from that world as humanly possible,” he sighed—Mr. Schaefer landed the premiere gig at Saks, only three blocks away from his first offices at DDB.

Terron Schaefer, dream maker.

Meeting at his office across the street from Saks Fifth Avenue where, in 1923, Adam Gimbel famously began his upscale rival to Macy’s, I admitted that I had never been to the store. I knew enough about the company to know I couldn’t afford a bangle, let alone a whole outfit.

But this was about the experience. Walking into Saks for the first time was like going through the looking glass of a regular department store. Here—as they say in Cabaret--—everything is beeeuuuuutiful! As I stood gawking at the giant, colorful fish that swam in a window-sized tank across from Coach bags, Mr. Schaefer guided me up to the third floor: the designer floor, which is where I learned how it is that people found themselves in deep, deep credit debt.

I had always assumed that clothes were clothes, and anyone who spent more than a couple hundred dollars on an entire outfit was a sucker. But that was before I walked among the theatrical Oscar de la Renta and Alexander McQueen gowns, the lace and paisley of Erdem, the deceptively simple lines of Akris. At each, Mr. Schaefer pointed out the intricate detail and attention paid to both the clothes and the surrounding environment: in a room showcasing Japanese and Belgian advanced designers—Comme des Garcons, Junya Watanabe, Anne Demeulemeester, etc.—there was a black “aqua” table by Zaha Hadid that seemed to defy the laws of gravity; a bronzed willow tree chandelier by Michele Oka lit the hallway; the blown-up photo of a Japanese basket that was photo-transferred onto the floor design for the Ralph Rucci/Chado boutique.

Mr. Schaefer explains the concept of luxury retail. Notice my stylish cat sweater.

We spent three hours going through each designer. Halfway through an explanation of why a certain designer’s lack of buttons was so important, I could feel myself slipping into a catatonic state of information overload. What was I doing here? I didn’t know my Valentino from Versace ... hell, I didn’t even know if those names corresponded with real people. And the looks I did like were so completely out of my universe, money-wise, it was like being on a clothing safari.

These are "punk" bags that cost more than my life.

True, I was learning some fashion trends for this season: mesh is in (you could find the sporty material in ready-to-wear Commes des Garçons, Jil Sander and, yes, even Burberry, not to mention all those mesh-encased booties from Chanel to Reed Krakoff), tight bandage dresses are in (woe be to anyone with a BMI higher than .02%), and so is a tony punk aesthetic, as realized by the infamous Christian Louboutin spikes as well as the prevalence of “takes” on the motorcycle jacket. It was unclear if these seasonal items were inspired by the upcoming Met Costume Institute Gala, “Punk: From Chaos to Couture,” or the other way around.

The color “guava” was also thrown around as a high seller this season.

Still, I doubted it would help with my larger problem: my complete inability to dress myself. I wanted someone to tell me what I needed to wear in order to look fabulous, how to accessorize without clashing and then, preferably, hand it to me in my size at no cost.

“Does this store have a layaway plan?” I attempted to joke at the hour-and-a-half mark, after fingering a gorgeous Michael Kors black and white gown. Mr. Schaefer gave a half-cough/half-laugh and mercifully treated the question as rhetorical.

Even more devastating was the fact that I couldn’t just buy whatever the model was wearing and call it fashionable.

“No one buys a whole look,” he had told me when we arrived on the floor. “I mean, you can, but you’ll hardly see anyone do it. It’s much more of a mix and match.”

I tried to explain that my version of matching was wearing two different shades of black, but we gamely kept going. On and on and on. Fendi, Zoran, Missoni—each designer like a new constellation that needed to be memorized in the fashion universe. This wasn’t fun. It was work!

And then something strange happened. Though Mr. Schaefer was gently guiding me by the arm through the first hesitant hour, by the second I was darting away to look at pieces I liked. I stopped doubting that all my choices were ridiculous: After all, if it was being sold at Saks, it couldn’t be a faux pas, right?

Mr. Schaefer knew that I was ready to fly on my own. “I think it’s time you saw your new favorite designer,” he said, with a mischievous smile. “I think you’re going to be a big fan. It’s Stephanie Seymour’s favorite too!” I honestly wasn’t sure if I saw the connection. All doubts vanished from my mind, however, as we reached the realm of Azzedine Alaïa.

Like a moth called to the flame of the Tunisian-born, France-residing designer, a moment after I walked into the alcove I was banging down the dressing room doors to try on the eggshell-blue Calypso skater dress, the matching, metallic bolero, the pink and black Papier vitrail cut-out dress with its tulle skirt. The Entrelacs dress in its muted pearl, which originally looked so staid, paired so perfectly with the greige textured cotton Alvéole biker jacket that it attracted a small crowd of bystanders when I stepped out of the changing room to show it to Mr. Schaefer.

Blam! I'm a princess.

“May I ask ... are you a model?” one of the women asked.

This lady could have been a plant for all I knew; in that moment, I would have willingly forked over ... jeez, the $8,145 that the ensemble would have cost me.

“Consider it an investment piece,” Mr. Schaefer said, before noting that the ALAIA was the preferred brand of Peter Brant’s wife, Stephanie Seymour.

We barely had time to rush to the Saks shoe floor before the three-hour mark, a place so overwhelmingly glamorous and gargantuan that Mr. Schaefer had gone to D.C. to petition the postmaster general to give it its own zip code—a brilliant piece of marketing savvy that has led to branding of the department as “10022 Shoe.”

Seriously, those shoes at the left have heels that start in the middle.

It was there I tried on Kanye West’s Mercury-inspired Giuseppe Zanotti heels (complete with golden wings) and a collection that featured the heel in the middle, instead of the back of the shoe. I marveled at (but didn’t even think of trying) Sergio Rossi's razor-thin, 4-1/2-inch bootie heels. Even more terrifying was Mr. Zanotti's 6-1/2-inch wedge with no heel whatsoever, letting the wearer’s soles dangle precariously off the ground, like a high-wire act with no safety net.

Anyway, after conquering the socialite soldier’s baptême de feu that is shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue, I figured, the shoes could wait for another day.

Kara Laricks with Broadway star Montego Glover at her presentation last week.

As New York shovels up the Fashion Week embers around town after the onslaught, The Observer still has a few loose ends. One thing we wanted to know in all the ruckus was how the new comers had fared.

Kara Laricks, the winner of NBC reality show Fashion Star, is certainly a new face in the crowded sea of designers. Under the tutelage design mentors Jessica Simpson, John Varvatos and Nicole Richie, Ms. Laricks convinced the buyers' judging panel from H&M, Macy's and Saks Fifth Avenue that her creations were worthy of the $6m capsule collection award. The show was a hit: Nielsen TV Ratings Data reported 4.81 million viewers for the finale, and NBC has already renewed Fashion Star for a second season and begun casting. We caught up with Ms. Laricks after her first presentation at Runway@Pier 57 last week to get all the buzz about her début. Were her masculine-feminine-meets-1920s-Japanese matchbox looks a triumph or did she she fall flat?

What did it feel like to finally present your first bona fide fashion week presentation?

I felt vulnerable!  In the past, if my collection was not well received, I was under the protective wing of The Academy of Art University, NBC, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy's, H&M ... this time, the pressure was all on me.  However, there was never any question as to whether or not I would continue designing post Fashion Star and I knew "sticking my neck out there" would be worth the risk no matter what the response. Now that my first collection has been shown at New York fashion week and the reviews are rolling in, I feel exhilarated, proud and accomplished. Can't wait for the next!

Any dramas or disasters leading up to the big day?

Of course - wouldn't be fashion without a little bit of drama ... one of my models was stuck at a Calvin Klein fitting until minutes before my presentation - thank goodness for my talented (and speedy) hair and makeup team.

What did you do to keep calm?

I am always amazed when people remark that I appear calm, as I am usually a ball of nerves on the inside. However, I instantly calm down when I pause and take a look around at all of the incredible people who support me.

So now that Fashion Star is over, what has been your biggest struggles?

Putting together my first collection hasn't been a steep learning curve, but a right angle. For the first time, I have had to figure out how to produce an entire line, secure PR, a venue, models and the list goes on. The biggest challenge is keeping my fans and consumers informed of the process. Fans of Fashion Star were used to seeing a garment one evening and buying it the following day.  In the "real" world, it takes six months to develop a collection, show the collection to buyers and take orders—then add on another six months for production and delivery to stores.  It's tough not to get the people what they want when they want it!

Are you still tight with the cast?

Absolutely! Nzimiro, Nikki, Sarah and Edmond were at my presentation, cheering me on. I also received well wishes from the rest of the cast that wasn't able to be there. I had no idea a reality competition would turn into real friends, real support and real dreams come true.

What’s one thing you absolutely hate about fashion week?

The fact that when I am presenting my own collection, I do not have time too see other designers' work—I am still catching up— so grateful for Style.com!

The U.K.-based company signed a long-term net lease for 12,000 square feet at the corner of 48^th Street and Fifth Avenue, just down from retail icon Saks Fifth Avenue. Ted Baker will use three of the five floors of the building, which they will rent in its entirety, for retail, while the balance are for office and showroom uses. Just a block from high-profile tenants Michael Kors and LaCoste, the space could command up to $2000 per square foot, sources not affiliated with the deal speculated.

It is also a boon for this block, extending the uniform luxury of the Gold Coast (the 50’s on Fifth Avenue) further south, as Ted Baker will replace a Sprint store. The store is expected to open in summer of 2012.

The British clothier stood out to the landlord because of its willingness to re-make the entire space at their own expense, said Andrew Kahn, of Cushman & Wakefield, who represented ownership with colleague Jonathan Scibilia.

“It’s so close to the center of everything, that a corner position like this [address]… is attractive to almost everybody. Ted Baker had an immediate vision and moved at an exceptionally fast pace,” said Mr. Kahn.

Ted Baker has two other New York City instantiations--at 107 Grand Street, in Soho, and 32-34 Little West 12th Street, in the Meatpacking District.

Mr.Kahn and Mr. Scibilia represented the landlord, a family investor, while Laura Pomerantz and Betty Ende of PBS Real Estate represented the tenant.

The purveyor of Gucci handbags and other fashionable wears has lately seen its prospects improve. For its first fiscal quarter ended in May, the company swung to a profit of $18.8 million from a year-ago loss of $5.1 million.

Nevertheless, the Mail said that a buyout offer may face opposition from some of the company's significant shareholders. "A possible stumbling block for any bidder is the fact that billionaires Carlos Slim and Tod's Spa investor Diego Della Valle between them hold a big chunk of the equity. They will want top dollar for their shares."

Shares of Saks were lately up 23% at $8.10 in midafternoon trading.

(h/t DealBook)

Now, two weeks later, it seems the store was struck again by a fashionable thief. According to the New York Post, Poertieiea Sturdivant, 49, entered the store around 5:45 pm on Saturday, placed two designer dresses and two pairs of shoes into a shopping bag and made her out of the store. A security guard stopped Ms. Sturdivant and asked for a receipt, which she could not provide.

According to DA Cyrus Vance Jr., she has been charged with grand larceny and criminal possession of stolen property. The designer of the dresses was not specified.

On the second floor, designer Chris Benz stood awkwardly in front of a television with a sign next to it that read “Play Wii with Chris Benz.” He had a considerable amount of scruff and a boyish smile. “I thought of it in the middle of the night,” Mr. Benz said. “I can’t sing and I can’t dance, but I can play Wii. What else does anyone want to do with me?”

Mr. Benz is either really good at Wii Tennis, or everyone that shops at Saks is really bad.

Also there was designer Peter Som, who was making sketches for people in exchange for the purchase of a Fashion’s Night Out t-shirt.

There was free alcohol, centralized around the DKNY display. But not everyone was impressed.

“I’ll drink a bottle of wine at home,” Sam Finzi, owner of the Empesar Showroom on 36th Street, said. “What the hell do I need to come to Saks for?” Ms. Finzi did buy a pair of shoes, though.

 “It’s great just to expose you to what’s going on in the fall season.” Deborah Chatman, a self-described "Wall Street person," said of the vent.

A lot of people had come anticipating a promised performance by Justin Timberlake, who was supposed to come through the Bridal Salon’s glass doors and walk fifty feet over to the William Rast showcase. After about an hour of waiting around, the crowd was abuzz with murmurs of “Should we go?” Well, Mr. Timberlake finally appeared wearing…something. Who could tell with all of those people jumping up and down and snapping photos with their phones? Then he said…something else. Too much screaming to hear.

Saks Fifth Avenue plans to weather the economic storm by featuring featuring 15 of its newest labels in its newly redesigned contemporary department. [WWD]

Scott Schuman of the The Sartorialist shot DKNY's spring/summer 2009 ad campaigns. [Vogue UK]

Jewelry and housewares retailer Fortunoff is expected to file for bankruptcy for the second time. [WWD] 

Another day, and three more jewelry collaborations: Irene Neuwirth and Richard Chai, Philip Crangi and Jason Wu, and Roxanne Assouline and Brian Reyes. [FWD] 

Burberry's CEO on the economy: "We could turn off everything right now, but we're not going to. This is the sort of time when leaders are born and made, and we will micromanage this business to stay on top. We are absolutely going to stay the course." [Vogue UK]

Former CEO of Macy's East Hal Kahn has come out of retirement to become the new CEO of Steve and Barry's. [WWD]

Designer Adam Lippes was scheduled to speak at Saks Fifth Avenue on Wednesday night as part of the Business of Fashion panel, but never showed. The rumor was that Mr. Lippes pulled out at the last minute after Saks reportedly dropped his line, but his rep said the company pulled the line from Saks in order to focus on its "strongest wholesale partnerships.” [WWD]

Hugo Boss will open a new concept store in the meatpacking district next week. [FWD]

On June 29, Meringoff Properties unloaded the 96,000-square-foot, 21-story building for $49 million to a buyer listed in city records as 989 Sixth Realty LLC.

Farrell Virga, C.E.O. of Meringoff Properties, declined to comment on the deal; however, the company’s Web site claims to “find potential property acquisitions of Class B office buildings, greater than 100,000 square feet, located on a main thoroughfare in Manhattan.”

Attempts to reach a representative for the buyer were, well, humorous.

Calls to the building management company were not immediately returned, but The Observer did get an answer at the phone number listed on the deed for the buyer’s attorney. Strangely, it was the Saks Fifth Avenue personal shopping department.

Needless to say, the Saks representative did not know anything about the deal. She did ask if we were interested in a great personal shopping experience, though.

Of course, a month before that Ms. Wang will already have jumped into the pool with all the other big-name designers doing lines for budget stores; hers is for Kohl's.

"[Vera Wang products are] perceived as so high-end nobody can afford them," she told a reporter from Brandweek earlier this month. "It's very elitist that only certain people can afford those clothes and have places to wear them [like on the red carpet]. That's not me. In reality I've always been more of a democrat. I want women to be individuals and who they are as people. I feel like a very lucky girl that Kohl's is allowing me to reach a wider audience."

At a show for the new line of lingerie Ms. Wang's vice president of sales for lingerie put it a bit more baldly:

"Of course hipsters are very important," said Mollie Cutillo, vice president of sales for Vera Wang Lingerie. "The customer is young, or at least young at heart."

For under $100, hipsters who shop at Bloomingdales and Saks (?) will be able to pick up her new base line lingerie collection, which includes soft feminine cotton and chenille babydolls, bubble slips, foundations, robes and even tops translatable into day wear. The looks are based on the higher-end items in the accompanying Luxe collection. 

That collection will retail from $165-$375 and features silk, silk georgette, and silk charmeuse in intricate and delicate patterns: a babydoll v-neck with an empire waist; really long wrap robes; a bubble silk camisole is a delicate find under any blouse. There's not a lot of lace here, just to draw attention to some intricate details here and there.

Both collections favor contrast details like hand embroidery over the otheriwse popular tone-on-tone detailing. The new foundation collection, launching in July, is heavy on bustiers for Wang's already established A-list bridal and evening wear consumers.

"[Ms. Wang] felt like it was definitely a natural, next evolution," Ms. Cutillo said. "It makes sense if she's dressing the girls on the outside with her bridal gowns, and all that stuff obviously starts from underneath, foundation is just a given. When you're paying $5,000 for a dress it starts with the bra that's underneath it."