"I love you, New York, but you're bringing me down", singer Anthony Costanzo trilled from Siki Im's runway in quivering falsetto. The song, by LCD Soundsystem, is a cult anthem of dream chasers everywhere, and, arranged here with a forlorn electric guitar, it made for a poignant expression of the conflicted feelings the designer has for the city. "I wanted to combine the gritty and the angelic", he explained, still cherubic 14 years after arriving from Germany by way of Oxford University, where he studied architecture. As his influences, he cited an eclectic bunch of intrepid auteurs, from Paul Auster and Larry Clark (whose film 'Kids', he noted with irony, recently celebrated its 20th anniversary) to Philip Glass and Sonic Youth. That's how he reached the ragged authenticity and adolescent abandon that defined this fantastic collection, which in fact blended two collections, his high-end Siki Im main line and his Den Im extension line. Fine shirts and suits, albeit with a twist, were paired with baggy, seemingly dirty jeans or variations on the M-65 military jacket to create a comfortably chaotic vision of how men, or at least some of them, actually dress -as he's observed. This was a collaborative effort, to be sure. Peculiar prints were collaged out of photos his friend, the artist Frank Thiel, took of faded window curtains in their hometown of Cologne; enormous charm-laden chains at the waist -dangling with computer chips, CDs, and other symbols of modern life- were concocted by London jeweler Chris Habana; and robo-style aviators were made with the avant-eyewear label Gentle Monster. Siki Im has always traded in uncommonly personal storytelling, the kind that has recently been glimpsed at the men's shows in Europe, too.