The thing about fashion shows these days is that the best fashion and people-watching happen off the catwalk—among the guests or backstage. Such was the case at the annual Oscar de la Renta show, which took place at the Fritz estate on Lake Tahoe's west shore to benefit the League to Save Lake Tahoe.

While what was shown on the runway—a collection of fitted jackets, ostrich-feathered gowns, and Chinese brocade coats—was mildly pleasing, standard carriage-trade fare, it was the spectator sportsmanship that kept the 400 or so sociables who had paid $350 a head entertained.

Consider, for example, the attention generated by supermarket magnate Joyce Raley Teel, who arrived dressed in a cowboy hat and a sumptuous suede coat. Moments after chatting with the Socialist about her excitement over her supermarket chain Raley's being declared (for the third time in the past decade) the best in the nation by Consumer Reports, one observer was overheard commenting in hushed reverence, "There goes one of the richest women in the United States."

Then, of course, there was the après-show backstage throng of frock jocks, who were eager to inspect the clothes more closely, get face time with Oscar de la Renta, and, perhaps most important, find shelter from the rain that began shortly after the show.

To which Oscar slyly quipped, "I had them right where I wanted them. They all had to come inside the tent." You could almost hear a cash register ringing as women sifted through the racks, purring as they tried on coats, aided and abetted by Oscar's right-hand man and consummate salesman, Boaz Mazor. While many of the regulars (including Diana Knowles, Ralph and Ginny Lewis, Thérèse Post, and Tom Kelley) made it to the show this year, the audience had some fresh blood, too.

"There were different faces," said Sally Debenham, a friend of Oscar's for 30 years. The auction, which included a $40,000 bid for a Hawaii vacation and raised $125,000 for the lake, lacked the free-spending thrills of a few years ago.

"There aren't enough younger people," remarked one woman at the Socialist's table. "The younger dot-commers used to bid things up and make it exciting."

They were certainly absent from the social scene throughout the weekend, which included a whirl of activity around Oscar. Emmy and Dolph Andrews gave a dinner for the designer one night. Two days after the lake event, Saks threw a lunch for him that brought out the fashionistas. That same evening, Debenham, Mazor, Oscar, and Helen O'Hagan dined at the Slanted Door.

"Oscar ended up reminiscing about a trip he was on back in the early seventies that brought American designers to Versailles," Debenham told the Socialist. "Halston apparently was beastly, they all hated Anne Klein, and then she was diagnosed with cancer soon after, and the designers practically weren't speaking after that trip."

Fashion gave way to cars two weeks later at the Concours d'Elegance in Pebble Beach. Laura King Pfaff, chair of auction house Bonhams & Butterfields,  was among a contingent of city folks, including Bob and Connie Lurie and Donna Casey, that showed for the annual vintage and classic car fest.

"It's not about who you are but what you have," said Pfaff, who participated in a car rally with her 1929 Willys Whippet. "It was spectacular—quite a few cars were shipped from Europe just for the weekend." Pfaff went on to cheer her brother, who raced a vintage Formula One in the Rolex Monterey Historic Automobile Races at Laguna Seca.

Back in Napa, the next weekend, it was the wine choice at symphony board member Barbara Brookins-Schneider's summer celebration dinner party at La Toque in Rutherford that was the coup of the evening. The 1980 vintage of Heitz Martha's Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon she served won over the 60 guests. Through her tireless persistence (just try saying no), Brookins-Schneider had managed to wrangle a coterie of San Francisco's more illustrious social folks, which included Ellen and Walter Newman, Bob and Ann Fisher, and Tatiana and Serge Sorokko. It's names, names, names; that's the name of the game.

San Francisco dermatologist Seth Matarasso arrived sporting a new hairdo and a shirt so unbuttoned that it set a benchmark for décolletage. One male guest jokingly copped a feel. "Nice chest," he said as he reached inside Matarasso's shirt.

Speaking of fashion, Tatiana Sorokko—who had just styled a shoot of Peter Coyote and Isabel Allende for Vanity Fair—experienced a fashion and art moment at the party. Talking to venture capitalist Pierre Lamond about his collection of Francis Bacons and Lucian Freuds, she reminisced about a Freud painting she had seen at the Fondation Maeght in St. Paul de Vence, France, five or six years ago. She had noticed the Liberty of London paisley print on her Dries Van Noten frock exactly matched the one Freud's mother wore in the painting.

"That's my painting," Lamond told Sorokko.

"Well, you have the painting, I have the dress, so we all got something from this," Sorokko said.

Back in the city, Roman-in-residence Daniela Faggioli has been helping
organize a benefit concert for the august Friends of FAI foundation, which works to preserve artistic and architectural works in Italy. The board includes Giorgio Armani, chair Lynn de Rothschild, and local hostess Maria Manetti Farrow. Various Italian members of the FAI foundation (drawn from some of Italy's noblest families) will visit San Francisco in November, but the concert—which will feature the Grammy award-winning I Solisti Veneti orchestra at the Herbst Theatre—will take place on October 14.

Coming Attractions: the socialist kicks off the new social season and reports from symphony and opera opening nights.