In designing this collection, Sally LaPointe had to watch a bunch of flowers die. Keeping them in the deli cellophane they arrived in, she made a mood board out of her bouquets, never watered them, and photographed them daily until they withered and dried. The photos became the prints, and instead of the collection being about decay, it became about coming back to life. "It's positive," insisted LaPointe, referring to her message the day before her show—positive, and even, at times, very pretty. The powder pink looks that opened the show had a lovely, languid feel. They draped gracefully off the body and stayed balanced even when multiple materials and layers were at play, like the long lambskin vest and jersey tuxedo dress layered over a high-collared organza and silk top in the first look. The flower effect was apparent in a plush cloque organza bustier that undulated like a tulip over a matte sequin stem; it was super-feminine and quietly sexy. Stingray belts by leather harness doyenne Zana Bayne followed the organic curves of the clothes, but the angular neckpieces provided a jolt of toughness the collection didn't need. As cool as they were, it would have been nice to let the clothes stay soft. A windowpane print looked fresh on a cocooning jacquard jacket, but it read as too literal on a party dress with an organza overlay. The best prints were of the flowers themselves. Saturated and lush, they came to life on dresses and gowns in cellophane organza. As the models moved, the light caused the flowers to morph and shift; the dresses projected a sleek vibrancy. Unexpectedly romantic and vital, they were proof that LaPointe had brought her muses back to life.