After all the hyperbole and hysteria of recent years, London Fashion Week this season is a quieter, less frenetic and frankly much more pleasant experience.
In the off-hand way fashion has of suddenly moving on to a whole new set of trends, London is now seen as having surrendered its title of the world's style capital.
Or perhaps this has been wrested away by New York, which is trying hard to tempt several major British designers. None has yet succumbed to American blandishments, but several are rumoured to be planning a move, and London's Antonio Berardi is showing in Milan this season rather than his hometown, so other established names may yet follow.
Should they do so, the organisers of London Fashion Week ought not to despair. Any vacuum created will quickly be filled by young designers, many of whom are having trouble getting attention for their work. In addition, a less frenzied atmosphere will tend to allow for more measured appreciation of what is on show, and this should benefit designers staying loyal to London.
Chief among the beneficiaries is Lainey Keogh, who has been confirming her position as a designer of exceptional merit.
It is a mere two years since London "discovered" Keogh at her first solo show; she is now seen as one of the principal reasons for buyers and press to attend the week. One reason for this is that the designer has shown steady development in her work while remaining true to her vision of fashion and its purpose. The new collection for autumn/winter 1999 accordingly builds on what has been seen before, offering no dramatic surprises, but a great many covetable pieces.
The first section of this week's show presented a series of Keogh's enticing, engulfing fur-trimmed coats worn over skin-tight dresses. The gorgeous palette of colours ranging from burnt orange through lime green to dusky pink, the variation in surface texture and pattern and the contrast between different fibres, both silky smooth and densely fuzzy, gave every item a seductive authority.
Demonstrating her ongoing preoccupation with new fabric technology, Keogh concluded with dresses made from hand-woven copper wire and stainless steel, their surfaces hand-sewn with enamelled discs and drops of pure crystal. The result: collectors' treasures suggesting Lainey Keogh is the natural heir to Fortuny, the genius designer of Venice at the dawn of this century.
Equally astonishing - if sometimes in a predictable fashion - is the work of milliner Philip Treacy. Having shown in previous years that hats can come in every conceivable form (plus a few no one except he could have conceived), Treacy is now faced with the risk of seeming repetitious in his mastery.
Perhaps this is why he invited chanteuse Grace Jones to model in his show; even without singing, she certainly managed to seize the entire audience's attention. The customary Treacy discs, spirals and feathered plumes were much in evidence, along with headpieces which looked more like masks than hats.
As a bravura display it was triumphant, but this is a triumph the designer has enjoyed more than once before and, like a magician who has already been several times around the circuit, he needs to learn some new tricks.
Not so John Rocha, who somehow manages to keep fizzing along each season. A number of familiar Rocha trademarks were in evidence: the skirts looped and gathered sporadically; the chunky homeknits; the patches of fabric applied in a seemingly arbitrary and crude fashion to the surface of garments.
But there were fresh ideas to note, too, such as the use of shocking pink for shawls draped around the body and caught on one side or jackets with roll-back lapels that hung lower than the rest of the garment.
In suiting, collarless jackets were fastened by belts directly below the bust and trousers were usually cropped and cuffed. There were outbursts of vivid red - always a popular Rocha colour - as well as dusty blue for taffeta dresses and skirts and caramel for shearling coats and jackets. Clothes of this quality should sell themselves.