Before washing up on this, the fabled isle of Fashion, the name Roksanda Ilincic meant nada to me. Only now, after nearly a month ashore, is this castaway even starting to fathom the indigenous tribe’s dizzying myriad of designer idols. Ilincic is a St Martins’ trained model turned designer, often called avant-garde — I feared the worst. Yet almost immediately, there was something pleasingly recognisable; a full length, square-shouldered belt-detail silk dress (beigey) that, long sleeves apart, was reminiscent of Lauren Bacall’s glorious get-up when singing at Bogey in The Big Sleep. Reassured and straining to ignore the ear-bleeding “music” (turn it down next time) the rest of this sometime Ladurée-esque teal and pink collection of shimmering, slick eveningwear (slashed swimsuit aside) proved a blast. Except for a dubious flirtation with black feathers (inspired by another tribe? Or Brian Blessed in Flash Gordon?) used in headresses, neck-cuffs and mega-shoulders. All-in-all I thumbsed-up — yet afterwards the watching tribe grew agitated. This is what I could understand of it: “She’s not moved on/ same colours/ hard to wear/ bit disappointing/ what’s on next?” Don’t shoot the messenger, Ms I.

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