For the past few seasons, Chloé has been a house in the doldrums. Designers have come and gone, sales have fallen and generally the whole thing seems to have got a little off-track. The unenviable task of Chloé's current creative head, Hannah MacGibbon, is to pull the beleaguered label back into the black and on to the hit-lists. Last season's outing, frankly, stalled, but expectations this season were high. Where exactly was Chloé going to go?

For a house built on a rather inconsequential foundation of floaty femininity, the harsh climate of Autumn/Winter 2009 was never going to be an easy ride to weather. MacGibbon wisely chose to look to firmer ground, namely the horsey, Sloaney tack-box of tricks evoked by some of the label's equestrienne trademarks. Thus, the opening looks were rendered in khaki and tan wool, the first somewhat summery flannel shorts-n-shirt combo bulked up with a wide-cut, calf-length wool blanket coat. Utilitarian was the key, with gilt chain and button trim highlights across the edges and pockets of neat collarless cardigan-coats, and those equestrian shapes coming through in high-cut trousers tuliped over the hips, occasionally cut with ribbed wool fronts and flannel backs for jodhpur appeal. Where the chunky tasseled belts came from (other than MacGibbon's 1980s childhood) is a mystery, but they looked great emphatically cinching paper-bag waistbands.

MacGibbon latched on to the forties-meets-eighties feeling evident elsewhere, offering utility suiting peppered with hardware detailing for day, and something of disco Dynasty for night. Here, black silk-velvet was the key fabric, sliced into those high-waist jodhpurs, draped into a wrap evening-dress with Pierrot collar or even crafted into a single-shouldered blousoning jumpsuit lashed with lurex tassel belt. The palette could have come straight from an eighties Elizabeth Arden counter: bronze, cappuccino, kohl black and gold. A black plush suit mottled with gold brocade polka-dots had middle-aged fashion editors cringing, but the twenty-somethings in the audience taking note - which seems to be very much the mood of the entire show. These were emphatically young clothes, made for buyers whose memories of the late seventies/early eighties barely extend beyond the bassinet. This season MacGibbon's argument was far more compelling than last: you could imagine women actually wanting, longing even, to wear some of those clothes, redux though they undeniably were. Let's not be too generous: it wasn't all great. A French navy velvet suit jacket with mantelpiece shoulders, chainmail belt and Little Lord Fauntleroy ruffle blouse was perhaps a tad too much, ditto free-falling cheesecloth maxi-dresses with Pierrot collars which, although entirely in the dreamy Chloé tradition, had more than an uncomfortable touch of Barbara Hershey in 'Beaches' to them. But by and large, the youthful feeling in each and every outfit on the catwalk was palpable and energising. Nevertheless, one can't help but wonder if it makes sound business sense to appeal so whole-heartedly to this age bracket of customer, especially considering that the truly fat and recession-proof chequebooks were held by those wrinkling their noses at this relentlessly young collection.