Tom Ford revealed his collection, iPad in hand (to control the music and models), dressed in black suit, silk scarf, shiny shoes immaculate as ever.
Ford only ever shows his collections to a small batch of editors at a time. There are no cameras present and woe betide anyone who dares to tweet a picture.
So imagine, if you will, a large grey room with a backdrop of mannequins sprawling in the most provocative poses, the like of which you might see in a Soho strip club. Then picture the maestro tapping his iPad and summoning up the models and music.
His first exits, all nude (the colour) were body-contouring, bondage-strapped and sporty (see, even Mr Ford is injecting sport into the mix this season) and heeled with shin-guarded bondage boots with a zip, he said later, very practical.
Then came the Tom Ford black a sheer tracksuit, a liquid patent flasher mac with matching portfolio shoulder bag. Both of which made you wish Helmut Newton was still around to shoot them.
Vivid blue entered next a second-skin pencil skirt in stretch mesh worn with a track top (I wasnt thinking Olympic sport, he told one editor afterwards, suggesting she had another sport in mind. Cue blushes and giggles. Not his.
And then the eveningwear. Nobody really does a gown like Mr Ford, the likes of which always make it onto the red carpets most beautiful. One long black paper taffeta dress, ballooned elegantly at the back, another in crepe de chine was entirely backless and batwing. But it was the two sinuous long crystal skirts, slashed down the legs and worn with silky hoodies that were the essence of this drop-dead decadent scene. And finally two glistening chainmail dresses, their jangling heard above the music.
To sum up, just one word: Sexy.