David Koma has kept the Blumarine girl in dark romanticism for a while, and I think she earned a vacation. So he sent her to California. He goes to Los Angeles at least once a year to reset his brain, and his summary of the story is simple: "She goes to California, dates a surfer, and has a good time."

I love how little he overcomplicates it. She is less gothic heroine, more ingenue, a beach-to-boudoir fantasy. The California here is early-2000s Los Angeles with a hint of the racy fantasy of seventies Playboy, and he is careful to say it is not nostalgic Y2K, even as the surf T-shirts pile up.

The boudoir half of that story lives in the gowns, so let's start there.

More than a third of the looks carried tulle or tiered ruffles, and about a third had a floral. That is the fantasy talking. Tulle, transparency and lingerie-minded shapes supply the boudoir, while the surf references keep it from getting too precious.

Flounces, ruffles and an abundance of sheer lace barely cover a streak of kink, and honestly I am here for it. Beachwear turns into eveningwear, and eveningwear looks cheekily undone. To my eye, that is the most fun a ruffle has had in a while.

About one in five looks had feather or fur trim, which adds a soft, fluffy edge. Think of the draped floral minidress as the daytime version of the same idea.

Koma calls himself a control freak, and I find that reassuring. The collection is built on the friction between his love of precision and the looseness of the fantasy. He has not given up the sharpness he considers his signature. He has just loosened the corset a little.

That is why I keep thinking about the wide-leg jeans and flared pants below. They are the easy, sun-faded side of the story, and a lace trim on a pair of jeans is exactly the sort of control-meets-release detail he likes.

The color helps. Pastels appear, but sun faded rather than sugary, with enough saturation to keep what he calls a "kick."

Here is my favorite stat of the season: not a single look carried a bag. Everyone arrives empty handed, as if she just left the beach and the boudoir at the same moment and forgot her purse.

About a quarter of the looks ended in fluffy shoes, which is where the playful side lands. After seasons of dark romance, I find the fluff a relief.

I would wear flared pants in a sun-faded shade with a lace-trimmed top and nothing in my hands. Innocence gets a little lost in this collection, and I think that is the point. It is romantic, a bit naughty, and finally lit by daylight.