Sitting under the glare of the runway lights for three weeks of fashion shows, watching model after model sashaying up and down the catwalk, isn't such a bad way to spend time. It's kind of like traveling.

For the recent Tokyo collections, we joined Noboru Yamafuji aboard his magic carpet and jetted off to the Middle East, courtesy of his "Desert Rose" theme; Koji Aruga took us on a cruise to the sun-blessed Indian Ocean island of Mauritius; and Keita Maruyama used the time-tested allure of Hawaii for his spring-summer 2002 collection.

The downside? Late shows, boring shows and weird models.

Even without the bonus of a dream getaway as a backdrop, though, it's still a delight to just lie back and appreciate the beauty that is a natural component of some designers' creations -- notably those of Tae Ashida and Hanae Mori.

Maybe it was just coincidence, but several collections this year also reflected the turbulent times: Kohshin Satoh's invitation had a fleet of ominous-looking airships headed someplace; and Maruyama enclosed a small vial of sand with his -- presumably to put us in the mood for a balmy Hawaiian experience rather than to have us jumping into Hazmat suits for fear of biological warfare.

But luckily we all survived and made it through the collections for another season.

So what's hot on the Tokyo runways, and how are Japanese designers faring in the big bad world of pret-a-porter?

Zita Ohe, a longtime Tokyo fashion commentator, notes that over the last few seasons there has been an increase in the number of new designers showing for the first time.

"Tokyo doesn't lack for design talent," she says, "and there are more new designers to keep up with."

In contrast, Gene Krell, Vogue Nippon's international fashion director, is more critical. "Though I am sure some real talent exists, the Tokyo collections have become an abstraction, primarily because they have little impact on the reality of fashion as it is related here -- where a monkey on a T-shirt has more relevance than the bias cut on a dress."

He also added that "the system is such that a subculture will issue a manifesto offering certain guidelines that its constituency will follow religiously, and this of course has little, if anything, to do with what goes on at the catwalk."

To be even more cynical, some might say that these new designers, mostly twentysomethings, help to pad out the collection, since fewer of the established designers are now turning up -- because anyone who is anyone shows overseas. In Paris, for instance, Issey Miyake, Comme des Garcons' Rei Kawakubo, Yohji Yamamoto and Masaki Matsushima are regular fixtures on the fashion-show calendar, while for several seasons Naoki Takizawa has presented the Issey Miyake Mens' line in Milan.

So what's in, this time around? Three words immediately spring to mind: ruffled, asymmetrical and deconstructed. If anything has a ruffle or a frill attached to it, put down a deposit now. If a skirt or dress is asymmetrical or bias cut, buy it. And if it is deconstructed, meaning it looks unfinished, you've gotta get it. Period.

Colors for next year are grouped around the natural end of the spectrum, with lots of white, beige, pale greens and blues, and just about every shade of brown.

Vivid colors were few and far between, with the brightest definitely being Hanae Mori's buttercup-yellow ensembles and multicolor wraps. Several designers had floral patterns too -- a positive way to perk up a rainy day or add a touch of freshness to your wardrobe. Black there is, as well, but not to the extent it has often ruled the runways.

Overall, characterizing many of the shows, there was an air of elegance and gracefulness, with three designers in particular leading this field: Mori, Ashida and Aruga.

Among this trio, congratulations are especially in order for Tae Ashida, who celebrated her 10th anniversary as the Miss Ashida designer. True to form, she presented a well-thought-out, totally respectable collection (no half-naked nymphs strutting down her catwalk) using some great fabrics.

Although it looks as if there has been some input -- or, without mincing words, guidance -- from her father (designer Jun Ashida), basically she appears to steer her own, independent course, with the results seen on the runway speaking for themselves.

The best from Miss Ashida this time? Smart stretch denim jeans, strapless dresses, cropped jackets over bustiers, a fitted brown-leather bolero jacket or tight zebra-stripe pantaloons.

In contrast, one designer determinedly not reflecting the trend toward elegance and grace is Keita Maruyama. However, although his Hawaii-tinged offerings were young, bright and wearable, there was nothing that hasn't been done by other designers before, many times over. Nonetheless, Maruyama is a designer who consistently turns out trendy pieces that are much sought-after by his youthful Japanese followers.

With Hawaii as a template, we found him embroidering jeans with surfboards and hibiscus flowers, using huge banana-leaf prints on cotton jackets and shirts, and producing a fine line in aloha shirts and men's suits in bright floral patterns. But as well as the Pacific, there's a touch of St. Tropez, too, in his cool, white linen shirts; while his homeland was evident in some nice Hokusai-inspired wave skirts and summery shell-applique, white asymmetrical dresses.

Also disdaining pure elegance after the last couple of seasons was Eri Matsui, who this time put herself out on a limb in attempting to break new ground via the forces of deconstructivism. The result is silhouettes going every which way.

At first glance, with her layers and layers of laser-cut techno-fabric with raw, unfinished edges and unbalanced hemlines, it may appear that Matsui knows where she's headed aesthetically. However, in the process it is also immediately clear that designwise, the finesse and elegance she has before worked so hard and successfully to achieve has here been tossed to the wind.

Of course fashion designers are not about to sit around and let the world pass them by, and key to this is having the ability to experiment with different genres and to let the line evolve over several seasons. The Eri Matsui offering this time appears to be as such: an experiment.

What Matsui showed -- hooped skirts, shiny, sharp-looking origami dresses, asymmetrical or layered pieces with candy stripes, pinstripes and pleating -- was not a disaster. She would, though, be better off concentrating on, and improving, those considerable talents that have brought her to where she is now -- an impeccable knowledge of how to dress women correctly and tastefully.

Another taking a less than purely elegant route this time around is Yuki Torii. Her fast-paced, youthful offering was high on Bohemian style -- think gypsylike and romantic -- with her use of layers, Spanish frills and applique lace adding a delicate touch to some pieces. Layering was important, too, and Torii used this casual look in the form of skirts over pants or fitted chiffon jackets over polka-dot camisole tops.

As well, she came up with probably the best accessory in these collections: Smart, black or white suede "apron" belts -- like a wide cummerbund with a small pocket in front -- on which small brass and silver ornaments had been pinned.

Meanwhile, Hiroko Koshino -- one of the three Koshino designer sisters, and an original member of the 1970s' Tokyo Designers-6 (TD-6) -- is still into bias-cut skirts and dresses. Both are often long, and by using some high-tech fabrics she was able to achieve interesting, origami-like silhouettes. Pleating and patchwork was also in evidence, and many of the fabrics, even in synthetics or synthetic-natural fiber mixes, had a well-worn, vintage look.

Amid all this, menswear hardly got a look-in. Though Kohshin Satoh, Hanae Mori, Keita Maruyama, Junji Tsuchiya and Hideaki Nishitaka all made contributions, there was only one complete men's collection on the program. That was Masatomo Yamaji's new young businessman's line, branded as Maji Maji.

Satoh found a motley crew of "models" to present his latest offering for Arrston Volaju at a club in Roppongi. However, there were no earth-shaking garments this time: more mesh tops and jackets, more snakeskin-accented jeans, more lace-up joins, more leather inserts or applique on jackets, more accented stitchwork on denim jackets and jeans, and more fringing on just about anything that passes as clothes.

For Shu-mei, Nishitaka crowded us all into a tiny hair salon in Kita-Aoyama to show off his second collection. Definitely an exercise in "creative dressing," this featured jackets with cut-out backs and jeans fringed down the outer leg or split from the knee down at the back. Though none of this is really "marketable fashion," at least it shows he is trying.

Finally, for elegant menswear, look no further than the runways of Mori, who sent out half-a-dozen pieces in what were essentially male versions of her designs for women. Among these was a very classic, pale-beige pinstripe three-piece suit paired with a checkered cotton shirt and pinstripe necktie, and a Mao-collar jacket-and-pants ensemble in bold black-and-white chevron patterning.

All in all, the latest collections show that -- in Asia at least -- Japanese designers are still a force to be reckoned with. But on the international scene, the reality is that Japan has lost its importance when compared to the mid- to late '80s.

In Paris, the fashion capital, Japanese names are still liberally strewn through the listings of shows, and there is no shortage of younger ones who, funds permitting, jet off there to show what they have created. But in the real world the truth is that for Japan's younger, up-and-coming fashion designers, the writing is on the wall. The market currently dictates that street fashion is the way to go, and for many the appeal of designer-brand goods has fallen out of favor.

Whether Japanese design can regain the status it held in the mid-'80s may depend on the current crop of young designers who, with the right conditions and backing, appear capable of catapulting Tokyo to the top of the fashion league once again.