For his first few seasons, Yang Li showed his men’s collection with his women’s. "But now", the designer said, "he’s living alone". This, in fact, was the second solo men’s season, and you could tell Yang Li was using the me time to revel in what he characterized as "perverse interests" : reading William S Burroughs and listening to Tim Hecker were all he’d specify. Burroughs’s face was on a tee-shirt, and his shadow was detectable in the tight check -an on-purpose anachronism, as Yang Li saw it- used on jumpsuits, jackets, and pants whose structure was traced by external surging. The silhouette was either close at the top and loose at the bottom or vice versa. Oversize outerwear included a car coat–duffle hybrid, double-faced, in that check. There were some great pieces made in collaboration with Austrian outerwear specialist KTC; a fully technical -not just looks like it- black Arctic parka, a green bomber with a dual-use closure detail, and an entirely Arctic-inappropriate appropriate black kilt. This pleasing but quite-specific-to-a-certain-state-of-mind collection of men’s clothes came alongside a small selection of exact equivalents, sized down for women. "There are no skirts, no dresses, no darting -nothing 'boyfriend' inspired", said the designer. Just clothes for anyone, of any gender, who should want them: a good thing. Yang Li is a thoughtful man who makes thoughtful clothes but puts his customer first. As he said : "You can have beautiful clothes that are not so interesting -or interesting clothes that only models can wear. It’s about taking from them both and trying to find a place in the middle". Even if you’ve been up all night, high on Burroughs and Hecker, that rationale has clarity.