In terms of what is “on trend,” being in the hub of LFW S/S 2010 at Somerset House, surrounded by statement shoes and tailoring, tells me I am not. These people speak a language I don’t understand. I have read the prospectus but not yet enrolled on the course.

The unusually warm climes on Saturday afternoon, teamed with my novice credentials, have heinously misinformed my wardrobe. To the point that not only am I perspiring away in last season’s floral dress, I’m not cranking up my body temperature even further by donning black studded leather. Fear not as the glass of bubbly upon arrival and promise of more freebies mildly erase the feeling that everybody around me is judging me for my vital statistics and (lack of) styling.

I file past the PR throng waving my golden Kinder Aggugini ticket praying they’ll not eject me for my lack of couture prowess and take my place to await my first ever catwalk show, hoping for ideas to smarten up my act in the fashion stakes.

There’s a bit of a wait. I’m guessing this is normal. To my entertainment during this enforced downtime – phone battery has died – the paparazzi have decided to do a flash dance around Yasmin Le Bon and Jasmine Guinness sitting in the front row opposite. After the initial onslaught of photography the pair endure, a belated single file of camera bearers trickle over to suss out the shot that they are missing out on. Hence, by the time the furore disperses, the shades are on!

Lights down and the festivities begin to deflating proportions – well, apart from the bizarre oversized Strawberry Shortcake hats. Pastel snake skin metallic dresses teamed with the classic Chanel suit jackets just doesn’t seem to be moving fashion forward. There were some nice pieces – I particularly liked the silhouette of the floor-length gold dress below, the nod to Tim Burton’s warped interpretation of fairytales in the use of stripes and the South American inspired cutout fluoro fabrics above – but on the whole I was hoping for more inspiration to ignite my own stale sense of style.

The collection was as described a lesson in the “Colour Block – Something more abstract” Garments were constructed from one or two colours, the structure of which became increasingly abstracted by nurtured theatricality. Dresses and coats became wider and wider as if situated over 17th century hoops whilst muslin dresses were draped over layers and layers of tulle.

Assorted pieces included bold coloured dress straps including what can only be described as silk dungarees. Box pleats, tunic shifts and “lazy chignons” escorted A-line skirts. The messed out romantic hair encapsulated the naivety of the models roughed faces'. Voluminous fabric encased the models's body whilst their feet were strapped into Natascha Marrow’s Mary-Jane platforms. An act of dressing that transformed their bodies into a fantasist’s playground.

Dresses inspired potentially by Balenciaga’s (1940’s) sack dresses were voluminous extensions of wrapped fabric hanging from the models shoulder from thick straps. The fabric was prodded, pleated and ruffled creating a sense of controlled spontaneity. Bold orange glowed in the semi darkness at the same time as tulle sprayed dramatically from the backs of dresses and peeked shyly from underskirts.

Towards the end of the show, a billowing pink dress materlalised from backstage gliding down the catwalk. Functionally visually as a bed, the creation was incredibly reminiscent of Victor and Rolf’s characteristic anti fashion niche. Where models are weighed down with yard upon yards of fabric drawing attention to the potential circus of fashion week as they walk around to be consumed by press and buyers alike.

The trench coat added a modern feel, as did the kooky sunglasses of the girl about town. The extensive volume combined with blocked out eyes proposed that the function of clothes is one of disguise and extended personality.

A rather spectacular splash of colour and extended anatomy on London Fashion Week’s second day, I’ll be watching future seasons.

The new collection from Osman Yousefzada (whose label is now called just “Osman”, possibly because the fash industry was incapable of saying his Afghan surname) felt short and sharp, possibly because the clothes were all riffs on the theme of white, and although inspirations from around the globe seemed to abound, the supremely restrained colour palette held it together. Against the background of completely pure white, even the patches and splashes of glimmering gold looked muted and discreet.

In some ways this show felt like a polite refusal to join in with the other children. While fashion gets into its 80s swing and the shoulder becomes king, Osman sent a deeply 90s slinky maxi dress down the catwalk, with one white, square pocket and one gold one. Some garments featured a cut-out where the shoulder should be, which my next-door neighbour at the show, Debbie from Tank magazine, whispered was like the “anti-shoulder”, a snub to Balmainia.

This was certainly not a blingy collection despite the gold, and the 90s reminders persisted with capri trousers, crinkle blouses and nautical rope details. As for silhouettes, as well as chic Orange County grandma, there were prim Park Avenue princesses in coats and polo shirts, as well as the hint of the Middle East and North Africa in the beaten quality of the gold, in rings around models’ ankles and necks and in the undone shapes of tunics and long dresses.

Osman’s inspiration was in fact Wallis Simpson, the woman who lured away a king, visiting President Nixon. It’s hard to imagine that meeting in general, let alone occurring in these clothes, but perhaps this is the wardrobe of a worldly American in the Henry James vein, a far cry from the brash stereotype of the American tourist and instead beautiful, charming, interested in the world and yet conservative in comparison to her European cousins.

The strength of this collection was in its refusal to follow current manias and it felt a step apart from the recent explorations into the dark and the gothic by many designers. Quietly confident shapes and the use of soft but resilient-looking fabrics, which looked much prettier and more wearable away from the harsh flashes of the professional photographers. The fabrics were made possible by Osman’s collaboration with a new Italian fabric company and the quality shows in a collection that resists either sexiness or girly prettiness and instead prefers to be worn by women who make history.