Was that wisp of see-through, black lace that barely veiled the model’s T&A, actually a dress? And that shred of chiffon, stretched taut over the torso, was that masquerading as a gown? Peter Dundas’s autumn/winter collection for Emilio Pucci was, in some respects, the story of the Incredible Shrinking Dress.

The Norwegian-born designer reached new highs in his microscopic, barely-there micro-slips for the Florentine brand. Sometimes, the covering was little more than a fringed scarf, albeit printed in dazzling Klimt-style gold and green, but still what most of us would consider an accessory. Yes, there were prints – the DNA of the label – and there were trouser-suits, which re-visited the Seventies' flares-fad, and there were clinging, stretch, silk-jersey gowns which appeared to cover the girl full-frontal: until she turned, that is, and revealed spinal cleavage only to be borne by the brave and the beautiful.

"Desirable, dangerous, sumptuous”, was how Dundas described his Seventies' muse, as once-envisaged by Helmut Newton. He took his inspiration from a 1972 print from the Pucci archives; an art nouveau kaleidoscope of swirls, which he then over-dyed and over-printed, on velvet and jacquard. Gilded, metallic lace - reminiscent of old kimonos - echoed the Orientalism of the Viennese school. Janis Joplin-style coats came in a mix of Mongolian lamb and python; fox gilets bristled with golden studs; and crystal-beaded, chiffon gowns were one-shouldered and fringed in gold. Stiletto-sandals and menswear-brogues, in snakeskin and leather, decorated with mink and beaver, came with five-inch heels, which accentuated the haute bohemian mood.

But it was the cut-and-thrust of the “lingerie looks” which dominated. If Dundas was aiming to catch the eye of the well-heeled babe-brigade, he succeeded.Hilary Alexander