I’m so glad the Paris shows didn’t let me down, in a season of mostly lacklustre Spring shows. So forgive me if I keep finding yet another designer this week to rhapsodize about. It’s been a long, dry spell as I patiently wait for inspiration, but Paris has not disappointed. Now I’m onto the house of Hermes, where only Jean Paul Gaultier could have the brilliant tongue-in-chic to combine western and couture with such aplomb, pluck and skill. I wish I had a big, fat wallet and a dusty south-of-the border ranch. See more here.