There were two key themes at this evening's Osman show. One—color—was an unalloyed triumph. The other, an embroidered heart motif, sold in some places but not in others. But the vexing thing about this show was that it represented something of a retreat for designer Osman Yousefzada. After two good-looking, grounded collections, Yousefzada fell back into his old habit of treating clothing as sculpture in which the woman wearing it is a relatively incidental part of the art. There were some nice ideas here, like fitted leather tops laced with twisted chiffon, and Yousefzada made a refreshing appeal to female sexiness, with cleavage cut dangerously low and legs slit eyebrow-raisingly high. But petal-shaped shorts that flapped longer in the back were just awkward, and the yards of fabric descending from the shoulders of dresses and dragging on the floor read as overly theatrical flourishes. Past seasons have proved that Yousefzada has the discipline to think about his clothes from the inside, from the point of view of the women who might be wearing them; this time out, he seems to have gotten lost in visions of the artistic effects his clothes create. A woman is a kind of canvas, but she's not a blank one.