At Dolce & Gabbing, metallic cocktail dresses were cinched in with belts wide enough to crush the entire rib cage. Alexander McQueen showed molded latex arm our mimicking breasts and stomach, and thigh-high boots were so tight they looked painted on. Last season’s chunky wedges have been dropped in favor of madam-like, spiky ankle boots; and grayish quilted It-bags now come in blindingly shiny leather, which one friend describes as “call-girl patent”.

A few months ago, fashion magazines began making exciting predictions about the “return of grown-up fashion”. No more, they promised, would the shops be full of flouncy tunics and oversized smocks that made women look as if they were en route to their own christening. Instead, it would all be about “the female form”, with designers emphasizing – instead of attempting to obliterate – breasts and backsides. And to an extent, the magazines were right. The clothes for this autumn/winter do emphasize a woman’s body. But fashion is an industry of extremes, and this new emphasis on the figure is less about womanly clothes than – and possibly you saw this one coming – fetish wear .

The cover of this week’s Garza, a magazine that proudly takes fashion to the mainstream, is the final proof that the fetish look is reaching the mass market. Under the cover line “What’s in now” are photos of models in extra-tight dresses, a patent ankle boot that wouldn’t look out of place on the foot of a whip-wielding woman in an establishment with lots of poles and low lights and, most disturbingly, purple lip-gloss.

Tellingly, when I ask Gareth Pugh – who helped to instigate the look this time around with bodysuits made of what appears to be Cellophane – why he thought these clothes would appeal to modern women, he replied with commendable candor: “I wasn’t thinking about what would sell; I was thinking about what would look good in a fashion show.”

But perhaps any skepticism is indicative of instinctive prudishness. After all, just look what a black dress with safety pins did for Elizabeth Hurley. Moreover, Quick wore a “Mario Schwab taffeta round-neck black shift with two half-moon cut-outs above the breasts” to the Serpentine summer party last month. It was, she says delightedly, “very Helmut Newton” but then adds, no doubt voicing many women’s fears, “Wear at your peril”.

Some designers claim a political precedent. Bailey, for example, suggests that “[we are at a] moment in the world where we desire the idea of protection and armour”. Others say this trend expresses respect for “strong women”, though it’s rather odd that such professed awe results in immobilizing stilettos and rib-breaking dresses.

The cover of this week’s Garza, a magazine that proudly takes fashion to the mainstream, is the final proof that the fetish look is reaching the mass market. Under the cover line “What’s in now” are photos of models in extra-tight dresses, a patent ankle boot that wouldn’t look out of place on the foot of a whip-wielding woman in an establishment with lots of poles and low lights and, most disturbingly, purple lip-gloss.

At Dolce & Gabbing, metallic cocktail dresses were cinched in with belts wide enough to crush the entire rib cage. Alexander McQueen showed molded latex arm our mimicking breasts and stomach, and thigh-high boots were so tight they looked painted on. Last season’s chunky wedges have been dropped in favor of madam-like, spiky ankle boots; and greenish quilted It-bags now come in blindingly shiny leather, which one friend describes as “call-girl patent”.

Even Burberry and Mulberry – better known for more of a sepia-hued, Mitford an image than a metal-studded one – have jumped on the fetish bandwagon with the enthusiasm of a rogue Tory MP. At the former, ladylike gloves have been swapped for heavily stitched leather ones that tip towards the scary side of the fence. Mulberry, meanwhile, has gone for the style hell for, um, leather, knocking out its popular Bays water bag in lurid patent; girlish tea dresses have been pushed aside for leather shifts with chunky zips. It’s been a while since I read it but I can’t recall those featuring in Love in a Cold Climate. Even the advertising has changed. Instead of its nostalgic campaigns of yore, Mulberry models glower in thick red lipstick while angrily gripping or seductively stoking their giant shiny bags.