Macdonald’s show ran late, so there was time aplenty to perch on his distressed wooden folding chair and ponder the significance of his catwalk. Done up like a grandiose French-style garden, it featured cobwebbed, Romanesque statues, a burbling fountain and heel-unfriendly gravel. The Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence theme oozed poignantly around us. These runes read, I surmised ethereal beauty ahead.

Nul points: they whacked on a dodgy version of Groove is in the Heart and sent out a cavalcade of glamazons in super-tight (fashionistas call this bodycon), heftily shoulder-padded power gear suitable solely for the toned and honed.

Black and white dominated: there were spiderweb dresses, slashed trousers and details including unfunctional zippers and sportswear-style panels. There was a flash or two of burnt orange and some possibly PVC macs with massive lapels and shoulders in an off-putting brown. Loveliest items were the sparkly numbers, one foxy Balmain-shouldered minidress with a plunging V neckline and two scaly, sequin-y gowns — one thigh-high, one full length — their swoops and slashes delineated with flesh-coloured stocking. Overheard were some snarky references to Strictly Come Dancing, and it’s true that Bruno Tonioli would probably have given this a rave review. Those glittering, fish-like scales, though, are very, very beautiful to behold.

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