Opposites seem to attract: on the London Fashion Week schedule at least. By contrast to Danielle Scutt, Erdem would never knowingly offer anything vulgar - his delicate, floral festooned dresses are the stuff little girls' dreams are made of, and big girls too, judging by the number of guests sporting his printed winter offerings. This season offered more florals: on each seat with a freshly-cut flower, and prints of the same appeared across pastel satin and silk moire cocktail dresses and long chiffon evening gowns. The faded shades of the print and muted, blurred visuals were reminiscent of Monet and Renoir, and the show had a similar dreamlike quality. The other big story was lace, again floral, tiered and softly ruffled in shade of clotted cream, eau-de-nil and rose-beige and cut into long dresses and pretty blouses. Some of the long, slightly-seventies shapes and piecrust pleats had shades of the much overlooked Brit couturier John Bates - not to mention Margot Ledbetter - and the couture feel was emphasised by a live pianist tinkling away at a white baby grand. Although Scutt's show was miles away in theme and result, both her label and Erdem have legions of committed fans and are certainly an acquired taste. This was a mite too sweet for my palette, but judging by the audiable sighs delight from the female members of the audience, boys are evidently not its target.