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Tory Burch is having quite the moment. Her rich yummy mumsy line, a preppy-boho assortment of graphic tunics, caftans and bejewelled shirt-dress classics, made a splash on the New York runways last week.

But it is her little ballerina flats, emblazoned with her baroque "double T for Tory" golden crest, that have exploded. Both the real thing (Holt Renfrew has a waiting list for the $225 flats) and the fake. The flat is the knockoff of the year, overrunning Canal Street in Manhattan and right here at home for $29.99 at Payless.

The New York Times has been following the increasingly bold knockoff market south of the border and Burch was named as one of the big hits. She filed an injunction against the copycats, but is on record as not being bothered by the imitations out there. "There will always be women who want the real thing," she said.

That's because women with $225 are buying not the look but a bit of Tory glory.

Why am I obsessed with the socialite turned designer? Why can I remember the details of her palatial Fifth Avenue pad, featured in Vogue last year (she likes to mix orange velvet with green velvet and she has a thing for marble)?

Burch started out as a fashion PR and editing assistant at Harper's Bazaar in New York, then married well; The venture capitalist father of her three boys provided the boost for the Vogue society page mainstay to take her sassy-classy look - updates of Jackie Kennedy classics done in zippier colours with nifty geometric patterns - to market.

Oprah proclaimed her early support for Tory's blouses and now three years later the 41-year-old designer distributes her line worldwide and owns six eponymous boutiques.

Perky, society blond and just recently untethered from cyclist Lance Armstrong (she does look a bit like his previous girlfriend, Sheryl Crow), Burch defines the modern MILF.

Now, I would be happy never to hear that acronym again, so I'm going to propose an alternative.

I prefer the word mumsy to describe the 35-plus zone. And the clothing aimed at mumsies, which is perfectly encapsulated by the little Tory Burch flats.

The item is a hit because it is distinctive, and it takes the saccharine note out of the ballet flat with the little disc on the toe. (The knockoffs don't have the same East-meets-West scalloped logo; the Payless discs sport something reminiscent of a fuddled Chinese banquet hall symbol.)

Here is the trick: These clothes are mumsy. Good mumsy, as defined as a sexy (but still perky and cute) grownup.

The Zeitgeist has shifted: the skanky, larded-with-runny-eyeliner Mrs. Robinson image of a mature woman has been tossed in the rubbish bin.

The new 35-plus woman with children is mumsy: wholesome, successful, rosy-cheeked and yogasized.

This is the shoe (and the caftan and shirt-dress) for her.

This is a whole new area of fashion, fast-growing indeed.

Other labels with the same sexy classics vibe range from Canada's own smash hit Pink Tartan to Banana Republic.

It comes down to this: I want to be Tory Burch.

Or at least her best friend. So in that pursuit, I'm just going to have to tell you right now you have to buy the real deal. Think of me. In a Tory Burch caftan my new best friend has just given me. The two of us lounging poolside on Lake Como.

All you have to do is shun the knockoff like I'm begging you to, and I'm in like Flynn.

ldelap@globeandmail.com