Simone Bellotti started with a problem I have been chewing on for years. He told me perfection at Jil "it's not enough today, because you can find that in many other places." I loved hearing a designer admit it, because minimalism really has gone mainstream and plainness is everywhere.

His fix is to add something "a bit wrong in a way." He shaped the collection like a wave. It opens and closes on pieces Jil Sander herself would know, starting with a collarless black leather coat dress. In the middle it turns unruly, with jackets cinched around the waist and shirt collars sticking out far too big.

I think that instinct suits knitwear beautifully. A sweater is the quietest thing in a closet, so one odd cutout or neckline does plenty, which is why the edit below begins there.

The shoes were a tad weird, and I mean that warmly. Bellotti gave us asymmetrical vamps, extreme cutouts and little adjustable flaps arcing over the toes, which is just what his growing fan base wants from him.

What I keep coming back to is that the strangeness sits in details, not big gestures. You could wear a loafer or an ankle boot from this world and nobody would call it loud, yet you would feel it each time you glanced down.

Bags showed up in about one in five looks, so they played a quiet supporting role. Footwear is where the collection let its personality out, and it is where I would spend my attention first.

Trousers appeared in nearly half the looks, and to my eye they are the real backbone of the show. That fits the wave idea, because the slightly flared pants near the finish feel like calm after a storm. I trust a house that ends on something I could really wear to work.

Tights turned up in about a quarter of the looks, and I liked what they did beneath the rumpled, off-kilter tailoring. They kept everything light and a little cheeky.

Bellotti even paired two blazers, one for women and one for men, with a sort of permanent rumple, as though the wearer had just stepped out of a windstorm. A wide, easy leg is the sensible partner for a jacket like that.

The release after the crescendo is where I fell hardest. Dresses with big, wafting volume are easier for a wider audience to love, and one pretty yellow number, draped and wrapped like taffeta bedsheets, could tempt even a maximalist.

Still, I am equally charmed by the small odd touches: a slip dress with ruffles pressed flat like a flower in a heavy book, and a pencil skirt carrying a Japanese landscape, the only print. Sunglasses appeared in a handful of looks and leather in only a few, so this is not a show built on accessories or shine.

The part I keep replaying is how pleased Bellotti seemed. I would wear the sweater and the trousers, and save the weird shoes for days I want to be noticed.