I do believe that J.W. Anderson is making some of the most interesting clothes on the market. Season after season, he continues to challenge our aesthetic norms, producing patterns that are at once basic and unfamiliar. Has the kangaroo pouch ever been used to such great effect? In fur, it’s creepy like the animals that we are, and paired with trash bag sembling varnished nylon rave pants, the J.W. being becomes a Hobbesian post-modern. London does conceptual best (thank their higher education and class-cutting intellectual heritage). Unlike in Ameri-duh, across the pond, we are permitted to think at the runway. And yesterday, day four of LFW, we got ideas: Louise Gray mixed household media, like toilet paper, duct tape, and whisks, into fine accessories, and closed with a Barbara Kruger tee; “Your body is a battleground.” At Erdem, the ladylike—boucle and marabou, twinsets and tea dresses—was literally contained in black sheer. Christopher Kane’s leitmotif was an MRI of a healthy human brain, consciousness all lit up. Even Christopher Bailey, despite Burberry Prorsum’s commercial demands, flirted thoughtfully with latex. Have your dress and think it too? Sold.