It was a neat illustration of how little, despite all the fuss, has actually changed in British menswear since Margaret Howell started out in the Seventies. Along the way, there have been bursts of peacockery and punk, minimalism and joyous exuberance. But Howell has stuck to her guns, sending out the same refined classics season after season – and now the fashion crowd come to her shows as though going to church: quietly, respectfully, attentively. In her white-walled shop, on a white-painted plinth, she sent out a collection today that could have come from any season – gentle, beautifully considered cuts, in buttery shades of seal, fudge, and chocolate.
