Here is a snap of the finale of the John Galliano show this afternoon in Paris' packed Opéra Comique - without a doubt the best show I have seen all season. Scratch that: it's quite possibly the best show I've ever seen. It creates wonderful fashion when a designer throws caution to the wind and goes with their gut instinct. But when that designer is John Galliano, one of the great geniuses of our time and, in my opinion, the great fantasist of twentieth and twenty-first century fashion, the results are awe-inspiring.
This season, I've sometimes felt as if I've been numbed - as, it seems, has the rest of the fashion pack. Few people have leapt up to nominate a single show as outstanding - when pushed, a few have confessed to having difficulties remembering individual shows, so easily has everything melded together into one great, never-ending morass of clothing.
The really great thing about Galliano's show was the passion behind it - it radiated out of those garments, it was almost visible, and it was utterly intoxicating. It was a fashion show that will be impossible to forget, what we hope against all hope to see in Paris. Utterly magical.