September is arguably the best month for fashion at Boston University. In September, fall hasn’t quite arrived, the leaves are still on the trees and the thermometer is still hovering at a pleasant 70 degrees. And for a handful of weeks, while the sun beams down on Common-wealth Avenue in all its glory, the High Gods of Fashion lord over our campus. From atop their Olympian perch — the roof of the School of Management — the Ethereal Fashion Triumvirate of Prada, Chanel and Gucci magically transform BU from an academic institution into one gigantic fashion show.

For these few weeks, thousands of scantily clad women take to the streets and model the entire fashion spectrum. The smoking clusters outside the School of Management mirror the leather markets of Florence; the “catwalk” in the George Sherman Union gets more wear and tear than the runways of Paris or Milan; the freshman dining halls resemble the nude beaches of Nice; and in South Campus, the wide variety of well-dressed women create a melting pot of fashion sense — ranging from thrift-store chic to ever utilitarian Gap.

And for a while — before the October wind picks up, the temperature drops and Prada, Channel and Gucci flee to the South Beach sunshine — the women of Boston University run the proverbial fashion gamut. From conservative to risqué, from sheer to scoop-neck and from miniskirt to micro-dress, the girls of BU know how to wear it.

But before I delve any further into this season’s fashion report, I should clarify that besides the disastrous Capri pants craze, which raged through the male population like a sorority girl four semesters ago, there is little to report on the male fashion front. Probably due to their meager 35 percent status and their Silber-defined, women-induced attention deficit disorder, the men of BU are far too distracted by the women to study or pay attention in class — let alone make contentious fashion decisions.

And this semester, perhaps more so than any other, as I gaze down Commonwealth Avenue, walk through the freshman dining hall or just people-watch in the GSU, I just can’t help but smile — and admire the fashion know-how of my fellow BU students.

And what is the rage this season?

Well, there is the “club chic” look. Primarily characterized by tight tank tops, black stretchy pants and stiletto heels, this look obviously serves to symbolize some sort of feminine allegiance to the club scene — either that or they just don’t have time to change. These girls prove they are always ready to party — from listening to techno music on their cell phones as they bop between classes to bumping and grinding their nights away in sweaty, inebriated throngs somewhere on Lansdowne Street.

Then there is the ever-popular “Britney” look. Found mostly in the freshman dining halls, where bitter upperclassmen must wade through a sea of bare abs, thick eyeliner, navel rings, tight tank tops and tiny, tiny shorts to reach the soft-serve ice cream machines and cookies, this look, I suppose, must have something to do with a subconscious emulation of one of today’s hottest role models: Britney Spears. Either that or these girls are most likely a troop of well-toned, bloodless clones employed by Chancellor Silber to distract freshman boys.

And the third look is my personal favorite — and it seems to be permeating the Boston University campus at an astonishing rate. To spot this phenomenon, just watch the masses waltz, or in this case wobble, down Commonwealth Avenue.

From pumps to open-toed sandals and from Kenneth Cole to Manolo Blahnik, high heels serve as the epitome of femininity — try imagining Marilyn Monroe without her slinky sandals; or Jackie Kennedy without her conservative, yet subtly sexy pumps; or Madonna without her spiked leather stilettos. For years, millions of women have risked everything from broken ankles, to blisters, to tendonitis, to oxygen deprivation to squeeze their feet into three-and-a-half inches of fashionable hell. And now the women of Boston University are sacrificing comfort and risking their own health in order to model my personal favorite fashion trend: pointy, high-heeled witch shoes. These trendsetters pay hundreds to suavely teeter down Commonwealth Avenue warping their feet in a manner that was thought to go out of style with Chinese foot-binding more than a century ago.

Only at a school like BU, where Tuesdays can magically turn into Mondays and where our president can ironically sign an “intimidation-free” college petition and ignore the rights of homosexual students all in the same week, it is possible to find girls wearing everything from crochet blouses that resemble my grandmother’s favorite tablecloth to pointy witch shoes that resemble medieval torture devices. And although the Indian days of summer are slowly slipping by — and with them the summer sunshine that keeps the wheels of higher fashion turning at Boston University — there is not only still time to jump on the bandwagon and pay homage to the high gods of fashion, but an opportunity to save money in the process.

Race you to the sales racks.