We’re hitting the wall of Fashion Week, and I’m beginning to feel a bit like Sally Field in “Sybil”—one day it’s cool and quiet, and the clothes (Marc Jacobs, Carmen Marc Valvo) are soft and serene. The next day I’m pelted with snow, slush and the throbbing bass beat of rock ‘n’ roll brands (G-Star Raw, Diesel Black Gold). Somewhere in the middle is clever Derek Lam.

First the serene, which couldn’t have been more you-could-hear-a-pin-drop than at Marc Jacobs. His stark runway show held Monday night reminded the fashion world that 1) He is a consummate showman and 2) He has a clue. He gets it. These are tough times for most of us. So there were no fantastical looks with underwear as outerwear, the carnival layering, the backward shoes. Those previous runway looks were inspirational. Trend-setting. But this time, the line is calm, wearable, real.

The hangar at the Armory was covered in cardboard, and Jacobs came out at the start, ripping down a proscenium of brown paper wrapping to reveal models on a stage behind, standing in rows. One by one, they walked a circuitous runway. Neutrals predominated, with long full skirts paired with a cutaway jacket, or fine knit tops with what looked like sleeves criss-crossing in back. Hems lingered past the knee. There were sequin-front knits; smart double-breasted and three-piece suits, bell-shaped skirts, coats. A strange, throaty rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” played, and only near the end of the show did he reveal looks with a hint of color—a pale yellow dress, and a light green sweater with shimmering gown. As if to say, “Toto, we’re not out of the woods yet,” but maybe the dawn of a new day is upon us.

Further uptown, Carmen Marc Valvo held his show at the NASDAQ Tower in Times Square. Outside, all was loud, bustling, neon bright; inside, the mood was society lady chic, with a whisper of the Far East. He doesn’t hit you over the head with it—just a mandarin collar here, a cheongsam there, in cashmere, brocade, beaded lace. One onyx strapless gown was topped with a bolero encrusted with gobs of jewels. Another sheath of crimson ribbons gently hugged the body from jeweled neckline to the floor. Vanessa Williams sat eyeing any number of red carpet possibilities. (And by the way, if she turns Al Qaeda, we're done for--they let her slip right past the security check.)

On Tuesday, the skies unleashed a torrent of wet, slushy snow that just wouldn’t stop. It even hit the runway at the Derek Lam show…well, faux flurries, that is, sprinkling down on the dance floor at Chinatown club Capitale, where he held his show. His line bridged the gap between quiet and kicky, with wool tweed dresses paired with leather trousers, silk blouses with skirts that had pleated chiffon on the sides, terracotta suede on front and back. There were bits that bounced (fringed skirts, saddle bags). And lots of fur (fox, silver fox, mink).

Then comes the rollercoaster at Diesel Black Gold with a crush to get in and a U.N.'s worth of accents—Brits, Italians, Germans. This is what it must’ve been like when The Who played the Tower of Babel. (Seen ‘em at the Super Bowl? Don’t tell me they’re not old enough to have played that gig.) The venue is like some abandoned warehouse—rough, raw, rock ‘n’ roll. And so are the clothes—ripped denim, tees torn and pinned back together (a not-so-pleasant reminder of ‘70s punk, and looking too much like a scar to be appealing), plus the standard slew of plaid shirts and leather minis. Nothing outside the box—and, frankly, a few less looks would’ve left us wanting more.

At G-Star Raw, the scene was futuristic, with a video screen backdrop. And music—pulsating, natch. There was women’s wear and menswear, each with a somewhat European edge. The line is known for its rough, dark denim, but the outerwear is what stood out. Although American guys aren’t really gonna wear the bright blue or yellow overcoats, women have more likely options: a toggle coat in peppy yellow; a military band jacket with tails; or a massive overcoat with patch pockets in back.

Fun. Dramatic. But…um…how exactly is she supposed to sit?

See Marc Jacobs Fall 2010 collection below: