Inspired by Nineties football culture, this collection mixed easy but exactingly tooled, roomy suiting that carried a faint echo of Eighties boxiness, yet it was far more fluid and less extravagantly proportioned than David Byrne's big suit (Talking Heads were on the soundtrack). The block was new and the trouser shape taken from a template cut at Norton & Sons, Patrick Grant's Savile Row sister brand to E. Tautz. The shorts, high-waisted, narrowly cuffed, and fiercely steamed at the pleat, were at once wholesomely naive yet expansively thigh-flashing. Hand-painted stripes on linen and artisanal shibori-dyed cotton brought richness to the pattern on collarless shirts cut to billow airily at the back. When he came out for his bow-and-wave, Mr Grant wore jeans and an 'IN' tee-shirt. This was a declaration apropos a great national narrative of the moment (Brexit). The designer added backstage that he had just finished a six-ish month flirtation with voting himself out (of wearing tailoring). But why ever would he rest one of London's finest collection of suits ? "I was bored of how it looked", he said. Now though, that campaign of recalibration through cutting has rekindled his sartorial urges. On the runway, single look mixtures of pinstripes and checks of different widths, tones, and fabrications de-federalized the top-to-toe governance of bland uniformity, and, as Patrick Grant pointed out, represented sound economic policy too : "because if you can buy three suits but wear them in nine ways, well, that's a nicer way of filling a wardrobe".