I HAVE often asked myself is it the singer or the song that appeals most to the endlessly original imaginations of Viktor & Rolf? What comes first, the clothes or the presentation? Hypothetical questions, and they require no answers when faced with the wit and cleverness of this season's shows.

To begin with, there was no show, in the normal sense. No blazing lights. No blaring music. Instead, each outfit and the model wearing it became a complete show in itself with lights supported on a gantry which the model carried on her shoulders along with a sound system which created its own individual soundtrack to fit the dress she was wearing. The music ranged from Handel to the Eurythmics.

The show was such a presentational tour de force that it was easy to miss the beauty and precision of the clothes, which featured a strong Dutch feeling - including unwieldy high heeled wooden clogs. Did the clothes benefit from the unique presentation? Not especially. But Viktor & Rolf's radical questioning and rethinking of all aspects of fashion is precisely what Paris at its best should be.

Junya Watanabe is one of the more cerebral Japanese designers showing in Paris and this season much of his collection struck me as having a strong intellectual link with the Bloomsbury Group. Virginia Woolf, who used regularly to pin her clothes together when she couldn't find a sewing needle, would have entirely understood the unfinished, raw-edged feel of much that he showed - bikers' jackets roughly cut down; garments made from two or more fabrics; little pieces of lace; bursts of narrow pleats; all of which led to impromptu unexpected effects as the body moved. Underpinning all in this stimulating show were the selling staples; the beautiful white shirt and the cute small cardigans.

Vivienne Westwood often covers the same ground but her clothes rely for the impact on her theatrical flair. At times they reminded me of Dorelia John, the beautiful wife of the 20s artist Augustus John, who wore her clothes in a haphazard but always stylish fashion. I'm sure she would have loved Westwood's loosely knit cardigans, multi-check layers and the designer's clear skill in making one fabric highlight another in eclectic colour mixes such as cobalt and lime which, against all the odds, work. Shredded, threaded, torn and layered - this was a strong showing of Westwoodiana, that unique world which alienates and delights in equal measure but is rarely without interest or challenge.

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