It's official. London is on its feet again and fighting back to maintain its position as one of the four main fashion capitals. After a bit of a rough patch, during which we were snubbed by buyers and press - who have always considered their stop here as a bit of a waste of time - there are sure-fire signs of recovery. Most of the week's shows have had good reviews - the majority of which have been deserved, I'd say. Younger designers like Gareth Pugh, Jonathan Saunders and Giles Deacon have been upping the ante for themselves and for the city and there's a positive buzz doing the rounds. The fact that Marc Jacobs has chosen to show his second line here in order to celebrate the opening of his first London outlet, in which cash bells will no doubt soon be ring-a-ling-a-linging, has helped no end.

But the star of the week was a 24-year-old young Glaswegian straight out of Central St Martin's MA course, who together with his sister Tammy, works out of a rented house in Dalston - not quite Fashion Central. On Tuesday, with his second catwalk show ever, Christopher Kane proved to those who had been sharpening their knives ready for the plunging that he was not - as they were hoping - a one-trick-pony, but rather a serious contender for the role of He Who Could Help Save British Fashion. He comes with expectations of being the new Galliano/McQueen, and what he's shown so far has signs that he just might be heading in that direction.

If he does go far - and seeing as he's a very nice guy, I'm hoping that he will - his story will be one of those that make fashion legend. After his degree show at Central St Martin's, not only did Donatella Versace offer him a position - which he refused (although he acts as consultant for the house), Anna Wintour, editor of American Vogue, also requested a private meeting with him. (That's the fashion equivalent of the Pope calling you up for a private confession if you're a Catholic), and a few weeks ago, Naomi Campbell drove all the way to Dalston in her silver Mercedes to get personally fitted into one of his showstopping summer dresses.

When Kane showed his spring/summer collection last September, his name was already generating considerable excitement - and a series of sexy pieces in a combination of colours, described by the Herald Tribune's Suzy Menkes as "absolutely fabulous" was worthy of it. "Imagine Marie Antoinette off to the disco in a concoction of lace, frothing like champagne," she wrote, "And that the silhouette of her stretch dress is as curvy as a corset and in neon bright colours." If there ever was a seal of approval for a young designer, that was it.

But Planet Fashion is inhabited by the fickle, and it takes no time for its Next Big Thing to become Yesterday's News. With expectations as high as this, there was a big chance that Kane might slip. Well, I'm happy to report that he delivered, and then some.

The excitement at his show on Tuesday was almost palpable. The front row was a who's who of international fashion and included faces that hadn't been seen in London for ages. After the obligatory 45-minute delay, the lights went off, and as soon as the models started to come out it was clear that Kane had moved on. The bright neon colours and the frothing champagne had been replaced by something darker, a bit more menacing. His points of reference, according to the press release were Rambo, Scarlett O'Hara, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark and Delaroche's painting of the beheading of Lady Jane Grey. Here, in front of us, was a young designer, growing up. The result: a collection that would have not looked out of place on a Paris catwalk, and that, for a London designer means a great deal.

At the post-show party at the Royal Academy later that evening, Kane and his sister were glowing in their success, still slightly dizzy with excitement, and a bit incredulous of the success. On the phone a couple of days later, having seen their mother and aunt off to Glasgow, Tammy reports of coming back down to earth because there were orders to think of. And that, at the end of the day, is what it's all about!

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