The first look at Matthew Miller - a great, albeit commercial burgundy leather biker worn with clean tailored trousers - lulled us viewers into a false sense of security. This was about everyday garments, wardrobe building blocks, we immediately thought, taking note of the fact that Miller talked about 'destroying everything' and 'rebuilding' in his show notes. Wrong. This wasn’t about everyday dressing but everyday life - mundanity, the objects we use and rely on. Sofas. Chairs. Curtains. The habitats we exist in. That explains all those interior fabrics. They'd been used to create minimal suits in head-to-toe hues, jazzed up only by tassel detailing on hems (like the kind you get on your valance in bad hotels). Perhaps inevitably given the focus on homes rather than humans, the collection had a strangely sexless feel. It didn't seduce or shock, more politely suggested a system of dressing based on removing unnecessary details and stripping back fuss. There's no problem with that idea but it's nothing radical, so it does seem strange to see such conservative garments plastered with the word 'resistance'. This didn't seem to be about letting go, protesting or fighting at all, if 'resistance' came through in any way it was in the notion of strictly ignoring temptation and piously and carefully committing to cleanliness (no print, no pattern, just purity) in the way minimalist dressers have to.
Miller's still in the process of growing his label and he's now standing on his own two feet - this was his first collection without NEWGEN sponsorship - so maybe he was looking to play it safe with a blank canvas. In the face of riotous colour and clashes on neighbouring runways those utilitarian pieces did have a chilly charm. But where there's calm there's also quiet, so perhaps it's inevitable that this collection didn't demand your attention or jog your senses straight away.