Alexander McQueen stole the show in Milan with his Fall '09 men's collection.
We'd expect no less.
[Hey, is that Warren Ellis up front?]
In naming his latest show "The McQueensberry Rules," Alexander McQueen elided his own name and that of the nineteenth-century aristocrat whose title became synonymous with fair play in the boxing ring. And that set the tone for a parade of glowering tough cookies who looked like they'd stepped straight out of Gangs of New York. Kohl-eyed, clutching their silver-topped canes like cudgels, they stormed down the catwalk in tailored finery. It was a typical McQueen scenario: immaculately realized garments underpinned by a hint of horror movie (a leather butcher's apron transmogrified into Rollerball rig) and the promise of rough sex (muscles that stopped at nothing, for no one)...
[I suppose the leather butcher's apron is to keep the blood off your finery whilst you're smashing some poor bastard's skull in with your silver-tipped cane one rainy night on Crosby Street.]
We'll take one of everything, please.