Relocated to spacious Georgian premises just off Saville Row mere days before their press presentations, the Karla Otto girls recounted that their neighbours seem to think they are some kind of high-level luxury boutique judging by the rails of clothes rolling in and out of the doors. And with good reason. Representing the likes of Marni, Valentino and Viktor and Rolf, Karla Otto's stellar client list would make enviable stock for any store. But despite the wonderful wares offered by so many labels, for me Karla Otto was essentially a one-brand boutique: I only had eyes for Loewe. Which, I have a sinking feeling, will rapidly populate my dreams - and wardrobe - and deplete my bank balance accordingly. Inspired by late seventies Parisian Proto-Punk Nightclub Le Palace, by way of the rather more bourgeoise recording career of Princess Stephanie of Monaco, Loewe was indeed the label everyone was buzzing about. Designed by Stuart Vevers - former accessory mastermind at Mulberry, Louis Vuitton, Bottega Veneta (you get the picture) - with a little help from his friends Katie Hillier, Jonathan Kelsey and Katie Grand, the collection oozes the sophisticated continental polish one might readily expect from the Spanish skin supremo, albeit with decided touch of London irony. Everyone harks on about dark times acoming, but the sight of a ten thousand pound skirt embroidered with solid gold thread (alongside a neat matching nautical jacket) seemed to banish Dow Jones woes to the back-burner. The exciting thing about these clothes was their sheer, unapologetic luxury: an undeniably seductive alternative to the inoffensive and quiet clothes proffered by so many others. From shoulderpadded sheer blouses to button through skirts, ostrich-suede trench coats and some of the most delightfully vulgar shoes ever created, the collection managed to keep a tongue firmly in cheek, while still offering clothes and accessories that could be stripped of all traces of dowdy cool and viewed simply as rather outre examples of insanely high-level luxury. It is difficult, perhaps, to concieve of a woman (besides the aforementioned HRH herself circa 1984) who would buy completely into such a glossed-out, pumped-up high octane femininity. The Dynasty days of women taking baths in full make-up and catfighting in fountains are, sadly, long passed. At the same time, such intricate, exquisite workmanship coupled with a confident, authoritive aesthetic statement will always (hopefully) find a willing and knowing customer base. Following two seasons of static shows, Vever's first Loewe womenswear show is scheduled for next season. Breath is decidedly bated and waiting lists will be filling up fast.