Sarah Burton brought McQueen back to London tonight. The venue, the Royal Horticultural Halls might have been where she worked on her first ever McQueen show 20 years ago, but it was for reasons more practical than nostalgic; the designer is 38-weeks pregnant and so it made sense to stay closer to home.
This season’s McQueen woman was said to be a night-time creature who drifts between dream and reality, and this was certainly one of Burton’s most romantic collections to date. What woman wouldn’t dream of sweet things wearing a caped gown decorated in twinkling stars and moons, the archetypal symbol of womanhood, or, while hunkered under one of those magnificently embroidered eiderdown coats? It was divine.
So divine in fact that it only further fuelled the rumours that she could be headed to Dior, a seat left vacant since Raf Simons exited last year. This show served to illustrate her prowess at immaculate tailoring (which took shape as tuxedos, with lapel-shape sashes or decorated in chains and charms) hyper feminine red carpet contenders (silk organza gowns embroidered in butterflies and moths or suspended from lacy bras), and couture-worthy craftsmanship (marabou trimmed and embroidered bed jackets in blush pink). It was stand out.