From the neck to the clavicle this dress begins quite promisingly. In its first three centimetres, it's very nearly a classy, beaded Gatsby moment. If Rihanna had only positioned herself behind a very tall lectern and stayed there, this could have been a turning point in her style reputation.

Instead she positioned herself where she normally does - as a one woman, two-fingered salute to conventional fashion, which has become increasingly modest and lacking in side-boob thrills lately. Cue howls of pain from those who see this setting back feminism another millennia and whoops of delight from those who believe this to be, like, totally empowering.

Actually, for Rihanna, it's quite nuanced. On the one hand there's plenty of nipple action. On the other, she's working that baby pink fox stole with decorous aplomb. If Lady Violet Crawley woke up in Katie Price's bedroom and decided to make the best of it, the results might very well look like this. And what's with that dear little cloche and what could turn out to be the most pointless knickers of all time?

What does this signify for civilisation? Well, old timers who recall the genuine shock of seeing Madonna pose in a soft-porn tome, will sigh at the tameness of it all. The under tens will probably start lobbying Mini Boden for sheer sparkly party frocks. Adam Selman, a name previously marooned in the nether regions of fashion's pantheon, and the man responsible for what, for want of a more accurate word, we must refer to as this gown's design, will be sitting by his phone waiting for that call from Dior.

As for Swarovski - the 216,00 crystals apparently scattered about Rihanna's person must have made them ecstatic. Anyone would think they were sponsoring the event.

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