"Jocks are bastards" was more or less the substance of the JD Salinger quote from "The catcher in the Rye" that prefaced the Sibling threesome's manifesto. But the show that followed was more pitcher than catcher, more wry than rye. If it was an ode to college football -complete with a handful of cheerleaders poured or laced into second-skin sportswear- you have to imagine a college where Russ Meyer was dean. And quite why three iconoclastic Brits with a past eye to punkish fun-poking should latch onto this particular subject was only partially clarified by the manifesto's blithe reference to "the desecration of male subcultures". According to Elder Sid Bryan, it was a trip to the United States that exposed the trio to some prime vintage Americana in the form of old football photos. "The stitching on the leather shoulder pads was like Chanel", he marveled. There's nothing to turn on a Sibling like couture craftsmanship. They wove their own magic with extraordinary jacquards, beading, and embroidery in this collection, with the elaborate detailing of Kehinde Wiley's Renaissance-style portraits of American rappers and football stars as another inspiration. And the muscle-bound models in their sequined sports jerseys and beaded shoulder pads were as much cartoonish exaggerations of masculinity as some of those pop-cultural icons. The Siblings overloaded the maximus in their boys' gluteus, then flashed it. Bare-assed cheek. The audience didn't know where to look. Or did. There was another story being told here, though. Sibling took on tailoring for the first time. Working with Savile Row legend Edward Sexton, they offered some precise, shiny looks as a counterpoint to the jocks. Mods, not nerds. These outfits added an appetizing new flavor to the Sibling dish. Or maybe just something more serious to latch onto.