Staged once again in the dank and dinge of a soaring, arched brick warehouse normally host to a gay club night, the KTZ show felt of a different time. Not just that venue, which seemed rather more suited to a Nineties London fashion scene devoted to shock tactics rather than sales figures, but the clothes themselves. Marjan Pejoski intended to evoke not the past but the future -"interstellar science fiction" and "dark futurism" were his key statements, alongside a heavy dose of masculine eroticism. That explained not only the off-the-beaten-track venue, but many of the garments on show. It was a chicken and egg situation : did Marjan Pejoski and the KTZ team think of the venue before deciding to strap their models into kinky tailored gimp masks, metal-hooped torso harnesses and clothes scissored open with glory holes onto various parts of the body ? Or did the pieces themselves suggest somewhere a little more off-piste and after dark in feel ? As a side note, showing a near all-black collection in a blacked-out venue doesn't create a great viewing experience. It all wound up feeling too little like a relevant fashion proposal, and far too much like an International Mr Leather competition. Bar the ever-present body-harnesses, there was a lot of leather, unarguably a surfeit for an ostensibly Spring-Summer show. Even if these are clothes for nocturnal activities, summer nights are frequently hot, and sticky. They certainly would be in a calfskin romper suit. Then again, it's safe to assume these aren't clothes for people who care a great deal about practicality. They are designed to satisfy a fetish -not a sexual peccadillo, but a sartorial one. KTZ has a loyal cadre of fans who demand very little each season, bar more of the same -that is, the label's trademark digitized, text-heavy prints in monochrome. Those prove immediately recognizable, and covetable, to those in the know, and were here in abundance. It wasn't worth peering through the gloom and wishing for Marjan Pejoski to do anything more.