Easy, cool and lightning-quick.

Hussein Chalayan’s show took place on a little pedestrian street across from his Mayfair store, and the setup was refreshingly simple, with all guests standing, Mother Nature providing the lighting and models carrying their own music, via little boomboxes that came straight from 1986.

There may have been a complex, interesting back story to the clothes — Chalayan is passionate about what he does, and his collections are often underpinned by sociopolitical and historical themes — but the collection itself was a breeze.

There were stripes galore, on suits with ties at the waist and down the leg, on cotton shirts and billowy or flat-front trousers and on collarless tops. Trousers and shorts were rolled at the bottom, some came with flaps or folds, while lightweight shirts were boxy or had rounded shoulders and elbow-skimming sleeves.

Silhouettes were languid and made for hot-weather climes, and Chalayan shaped them with a drawstring here and a snap, knot or buckle there.

While he may have begun with the idea of dance and movement among ethnic groups colonized by Western nations, and about the tensions between indigenous cultures and their occupiers across the centuries, he ended with the most democratic of collections, which should suit any body shape under the sun.