No one wears Lainey Keogh's clothes better than the designer herself. She has always said her work is born from love, and the same emotion is evident in the way she dresses. The love she celebrates with her clothes is sensual in character, richly luscious in appearance and unabashed in its admiration of a woman's body. Fashion designers, especially men, are often accused of trying to transform the female form into that of a young boy. No such suggestion could ever be made about Keogh's work, which is a tribute to feminine voluptuousness.

This is certainly how the designer wears her own knitwear, which wraps and caresses the body beneath. As if to accentuate the irresistibly sybaritic nature of the clothes, they are usually seen in seductive hues on Keogh. The fashion world's devotion to black seems to have passed her by entirely; instead, she opts for the richest shades of raspberry, orange, lime and lilac. A stretch cashmere or angora dress will be enhanced by the addition of an Indian embroidered shawl loosely knotted around her hips or thrown across her shoulders. The gorgeous effect achieved by this style of dress is almost untouched by 1990s minimalism and is reminiscent instead of Rubens's glorious portraits of Marie de' Medici or those painted by Renoir of the great art patron Misia Sert.

In a fashion era of modest chamber works, Keogh's sense of colour is symphonic in scale; there is nothing timid about her, and the flair for which she is admired lies in a bravura approach to dressing. The overall impact is aided by a head of Titianesque hair. Two other features deserve to be mentioned. One is Lainey's sinuous, undulating walk in which every part of her body appears to be engaged; she slides across the floor in a manner that is often emulated by other women wearing her clothes. In addition, she possesses a highly distinctive voice which is part breathless child, part knowledgeable femme du monde. The combination is utterly compelling.