It was when the immaculate white show space started breathing that you knew this was going to be a Courrèges show to remember. Nicolas Di Felice’s tenure at Courrèges has been defined by a theatrical flair for showmanship. Last season, the white floors were allowed to be scuffed and torn up by the models. The season before that saw smoke and fog rising from the floor like New York subway grates. Part Cronenberg, part White Cube, this season at Courrèges the whole centre of the show space started throbbing, breathing in and out in time with the soundtrack. It was gorgeous and it was kinda freaky.

As the models marched out, it was immediately obvious that the recurring motif of the show was going to be a singular front pocket. The models had their left hands tucked in, as if they were enjoying themselves – the floor continued to pulse, and the sound of heavy breathing took over the speakers. It was a statement of self-love and self-healing in a complex world. (Sometimes all you need is a free hour, your own company and a Courrèges bias-cut skirt.) As always, the outfits were a sleek mix of the futuristic 60s silhouettes that André Courrèges was best known for, mixed with a certain Gen Z styling — the skinny sunglasses and hoods inspired by the brand’s classic space-balaclavas – and sense of the fetish – those blindfold sunglasses and black leather knee-high boots. It was an utter thrill.