To raise Nasir Mazhar’s hackles, just say, "streetwear". He palpably snarls at a word he feels comes laden with an implicit marginalization. That might just be a little oversensitive. Yet he delivered a comprehensive rebuff to any such marginalizers -real or just perceived- in a collection peopled by imagined clubbing characters as richly cast as their clothes were diverse. The Darth Vader bucket-head looks were attention-grabbing, if stagey. Much more pragmatically memorable was a fitted tracksuit considerately ruched to inflate the man within. Dance floor lingerie for men and women, liberally strapped and worn over pulled-down denim, was effective podium provocation. With the exception of some ironic white piping and two feathered arcs around his name on a logo sweatshirt, the collection was all black -the designer said he was taking a sabbatical from color. In photographs this inkiness will swallow up detail, which is a shame because there was a lot of it; the intricate folds and layered construction on many of these looks gave the illusion of technical function both tough and pretty. There were tangible nods to old-school woolen Yukon workwear rendered in nylon, a knowing hat tip to clubbing codes past in a shawl-collared jacket, and even hints of Jacobean jerkin in his gilet shapes for men and women. It is streetwear -sorry, Nasir- but that’s to belittle neither the medium nor the exuberant invention of this collection.