Would it be wrong to say that there’s something of the muumuu about this? Okay, not muumuu in the strictest sense, as this was not floral, nor dropped in the shoulders, nor reserved only for the morbidly obese – but in that same idea of covering the body in a large mass of fabric – roomy, floor-skimming shirt dresses in candy-striped cotton, some with sleeves (alternatively, one short, one long) or those higher in the hem, worn over loose-fitting matching trousers. I mean, lest we forget, this is resort, and really, what woman, or man for that matter, wouldn’t want to hide one’s form in a large piece of fabric when stomping around poolside? It was, once again, a play from Demna on the boundaries of high and low taste, placing them not as separate poles but on a criss-crossing spectrum, resulting in a witty riff on resort dressing. Let’s call it a kind of strung-out American tourist look – branded caps, bermuda shorts and that laundry bag, here becoming something distinctly beach-y. Top marks also go to those slip-on shoes that had more than a vague whiff of those slippers you get free in hotels of a certain class, offering them alongside a striped terrycloth dressing gown, complete with an elegantly draped towel upon the shoulder. Bathtime dressing? But there was still an irreverent glamour to proceedings – a perfectly formed one-shouldered mini dress, smatterings of jewelry, a sort of all-in-one swimsuit that elegantly twists at the shoulder. I mean, this is Balenciaga, darling. Plenty here too for the devoted Demna groupies – tailoring, wide and boxy on the shoulder, roomy striped shirts, super wide-legged skater boy trousers. It once again showed that Mr Gvasalia has an uncanny genius of predicting exactly what women want to wear. Even if they don’t quite know it yet.