It's now not a secret any more, Versace has been constantly flirting with bankruptcy since 2004. Financial analysts are not exactly nice to plastic Queen of Kitsch Donatella Versace and she's probably the strongest woman in the fashion industry -she's actually the only woman who controls a big-name label. And it must be acknowledged she is resourceful. She signed a big fat contract with Swedish retailer H&M to increase revenues. Which helped revamp Versus for women, relaunch Atelier Versace in Paris, and restart Young Versace for kids. God bless H&M ! Donatella Versace has come to a critical realization : she doesn't have to re-invent the wheel, she just needs to remind the world what the wheel looked like in the first place. Her engagement with London's young fashion scene has introduced her to a posse of design-stars-to-come, all of them mesmerized by the Versace legacy. And she's been inspired by their devotion. That much was obvious from the very first outfit in the current season's collection which didn't look this bad if you're into über-extravaganza. It was a double-breasted suit in a classic Prince of Wales check, closing low to emphasize the torso. Its sleeves were insouciantly pushed up in the way that used to inflame the menswear establishment, back when Versace-wearing popstars were injecting precision sartorialism into pop culture. Within seconds, another double-breasted suit in equally classic pied-de-poule came tootling along, this one accessorized with chunky gladiator mandals. By which point there were intimations that there was no top too over for this show. And that was precisely the case. Two words : baroque and buckles. The swirling curlicues that were a Gianni signature reappeared here in black and white, coiling across jeans and silky blousons, decorating the terry robes that were once every well-dressed pool's accessory of choice, and insinuating themselves as the tone-on-tone pattern on a sheer mesh shirt. The buckles were the decorative hardware that ran rampant down trouser legs, more successfully on leather than on wool. They also did the work of buttons as jacket closings. The palette rose to the occasion with a florid Miami symphony of chrome yellow, grass green, vermilion, cobalt and hot pink (there were pink socks with the red patent mandals that anchored a pink suit). The color scheme was most intense with lacquered-knit breastplates in all of those shades. Gladiators ? Breastplates ? Donatella Versace has tuned back into the campy classicism that once gave the label its unique tang. There's no point in talking about a return to the Eighties when the enthusiasm for these clothes will doubtless be derived from people who weren't even born then. To them, this will simply play as a new flavor of excess. But even they will be teased by the Eighties dilettante dilemma -when is too much just enough ?