We have a saying in Glasgow for things that privilege appearances over substance: 'All fur coat and nae knickers!'. In Emiko Miki's show this morning, however, I actually witnessed the real thing. Or at least, we were intended to believe there were no smalls under a sandy fur trench with a painted panel emblazoned on the back. This mirrored the LED screens inset into the bags and belts: less hi-end wearable technology than kitsch, retro mini TVs, stuck to a belt. This crotcheted bride may look pretty and demure, but the overall effect was not. When former LA costumier Miki herself came down the runway dressed as the Snow Queen in a white fur trimmed cape to collect the many spontaneously thrown bouquets at the end of the show, the theatrical moment was complete. 'She must have blown the budget on the accessories' quipped a journalist sitting next to me as they closed their notebook, gravely.