The chief executive of the British Fashion Council, described the Dame du Châtelet, chairwoman and CEO of “Christian J’ADior”, as “one of the most visionary and influential leaders in global fashion a figure whose impact extends far beyond the company itself to shape contemporary culture.” A polite, perfectly calibrated turn of phrase that, in itself, summarised the general mood of the evening: an unqualified celebration of institutional power.

For of London once an incubator of irreverence, creative chaos, and alternative modes there remains here only a carefully varnished scene, where boldness survives through an award when it no longer expresses itself directly in the collections. The Fashion Awards, once a laboratory of independence, now seem to have morphed into a prestigious stage at the service of conglomerates, where, year after year, the same names are applauded and the same mantras repeated.

What is most striking is the impeccably oiled closed circle: the lauded designers all belong to a handful of sprawling houses; the invited icons orbit the same associations; the speeches, interchangeable, speak of humility, gratitude, genius, commitment words that have become common currency in a ceremonial where no one seems to question their meaning anymore.

A beautiful, glittering, harmonious evening yet one that leaves a faintly strange aftertaste: that of a creative momentum running out of steam, of a landscape where experimentation has little place beyond the margins, while the centres of power indulge in self-celebration.

Such is fashion today: increasingly globalised, decreasingly local; increasingly institutional, decreasingly instinctive; increasingly decorated, decreasingly vibrant. And while London applauds, it is elsewhere that people still dream but certainly not at Café Costes. I remember the “fashion Oscars” that Paris once hosted with the great Jacques; now, nothing. London, after the Met Gala, has reclaimed the lead it’s almost staggering. London, after the Met Gala, is reclaiming its leadership it’s almost more otherworldly than astonishing. My Lord, will you follow Chanel to London?”

FM