These were Chez Guevara's wealthy grand nieces in perfecto biker jackets lined in alpaca and hefty tobacco hued pants, ideal for riding sidesaddle on the revolutionary's Norton 500 motorcycle La Poderosa, or The Mighty One. Incan princesses in sleeveless mink blousons, waxed leather redingotes and lambskin shirts; tough romantic chic at its best.

Tisci's Latin America, like the couturier, is religiously obsessed so asymmetrical robes are sexy yet that tad demure.

Models took jaunts in Zig Zag Peruvian pattern pants suits, and native people's bulbous hats in this show, staged in a medieval convent, whose floor was covered in scraps of wood bark.

One stunning semi-sheer white organza column with a broken geometric pattern made of twisted organza and beads showed a master couturier at work, and rightly drew a burst of applause.

For evening, Tisci injected his quotient of sex, climaxing with a finale of more biker jackets, though this time worn over see-through tulle dresses, the better to admire the slimmest of bottoms.

Riccardo's clothes are not an easy wear; his is such a singular vision it may always been a minority report. But his view of fashion is so dramatic and beautifully pure that he's guaranteed to win his place among the Pantheon of couturiers.