Paul Smith is revisiting his life in his collections. Last time, it was the funk soul brothers of the early sixties. Here, it was that moment when acid arrived to puncture everyone's balloons, when people still looked straight, but had psychedelic stuff going on in their heads. It's why the show was called "Cosmic Picnic." And why Pink Floyd was playing as the audience walked in. And why the models were sporting eye makeup that made them look like tripped-out Syd Barretts. But the clothes themselves were a repetitive procession of three-piece suits and casual, tailored cottons. There were stripes, there was seersucker, and the loucheness of a suit and waistcoat worn with nothing underneath but a tee. And there was the occasional hint of ethnicity. But otherwise, Sir Paul stayed pretty close to the visual of the straight-looking acidhead. Still, with the chronology that's unfolding, we might legitimately look forward to the appearance sometime soon of the sprayed-on velvets he used to make for Jimmy Page. Please!