There's often the feeling with a Moschino show that it crystallizes what's in the air in Milan, and it does so with the sarcastic wit and verve that characterized the work of the label's founder, Franco himself. So what happened today? The collection's inspiration was the socialite, equestrian, champion skier, and all-around fabulous creature Ann Bonfoey Taylor, a prodigious twentieth-century style icon to the cognoscenti, but hardly a name that gets much zis boom bah going with the hoi polloi. Minus familiarity with Taylor, what we saw was a totally peculiar Highland fling, with incongruous injections of Annie Oakley and Japanese school uniforms. Incongruity is something of a Moschino signature, but there was no trace of irony in today's juxtapositions. In fact, there was a cumulative sense of the ghastly in the gold-insignia-ed tartans. By the time the classic monochrome Moschino made its appearance, the head was spinning with what thuh?. It all felt like the humanist fluidity of the classic Moschino proposition had calcified into rigid formality.