by Alexander Fury .

Roksanda Ilincic

You'll have to be content with a fetching snap of my deranged fash mag slag scribblings in lieu of footage of the Roksanda Ilincic show as, alas, the finale circumvented my seat and by the time I fought my way through the photographers' scrum there was barely a slither of silk-satin in sight. The collection was shown in the sophisticated setting of the atrium of the Aurora restaurant at ANdAZ, to a champagne reception around which the models wound their way, dressed in... well, classic Ilincic. The draped satin and crepe-de-chine gowns were beautiful, but really they weren't anything we hadn't seen from her before. Ditto the exaggerated angles at peplum and poitrine and twists and fins of fabric, sometimes in acid-bright zibeline and gazar with the selvedge left intact. That said, Ilincic has an international fanbase of women consistently wearing - and buying - into her extreme vision of modern couture season after season, so perhaps the old adage is true: if it ain't broke don't fix it.