You could sum up Guillaume Henry's Carven show this morning up by its (excellent) soundtrack: to begin, the sound of a skateboard rolling up and down a pavement, followed with a classical piano sonata repeatedly interrupted by The Pixies. Sure.

He took an out-sized look as his starting point and attempted to spin skate culture's characteristically baggy and androgynous style into something more in keeping with this label's modern interpretations of classic feminine tropes.

So 'denim' jackets - that faux sort of box-fresh 'No Fear' denim of the late 90s - were boxy, with deliberately sagging shoulders, touched up with chintzy floral patches - the sort of sticker art Laura Ashley might use on her wheels, were she reincarnated on a half-pipe.

That shape came again in longer coats and cropped jackets printed in a rave-y tech-camo of fuschia and lime green, which faded to pastel tones and eventually to neutral. There were flashes of gingham too, on shirtdresses that seemed to borrow from the American Midwest, updated with sport details such as bandeau sleeves and wrap-over yokes.

Final pieces were more delicate but still intentionally challenging - textured two-piece suits in just-off pale chartreuse and baby pink; duchesse satin separates in faded crimson and gold; and finally that camouflage again, upon closer observation made of an intricate spriggy lace.

These pieces took adolescence as their inspiration - an adolescence enjoyed by those now in their spending prime. That sort of nostalgia is priceless, but give these big kids the prettier, more flattering version of what they used to wear and they'll be only too happy to relive their youth. Far out, Guillaume.