Like a Nordic warrior – from the past or far in the future, we couldn’t tell. Cornrows circled the models’ heads like a beehive, with two plaits left long at the front. Faces were deathly pale with a white sheen as if frosted, and lips a cold metallic. That was the Alexander McQueen show, showed in a mossy, misty forest. Soft, virgin-white pieces worn against untouched, alabaster skin: broderie anglaise dresses with billowing peasant sleeves and starched white pilgrim collars tied with black bows. The damned temptresses wore gothic black: sheer dresses dotted with black feathers that grew into a full feather skirt, seductive low-cut gowns of inky ruffles, and shadowy black fur hoods. Final sheer white gowns were embroidered with stars and moons suggestive of the occult pentagram. These McQueen brides glided along the moss-covered ground, their pristine feathered hems trailing in their wake.