Before his show, Henry Holland claimed that this collection marked the first time he has offered an LBD. But let's remember whom we're dealing with: The opening look combined a coat trimmed with fun fur, metallic lime leisure pants, and a T-shirt scrolled with "Riche Bish." House of Holland does not do safe.

Starting with the theme of debauched debutantes, Holland assembled a group of girls—"a gang of HOH harlots," according to the program notes—who seemed determined to display their conspicuous consumption with no shortage of cheek. Poring over the social pages translated into patterns and puns; trippy interpretations of ballroom-floor parquet and flocked damask wallpaper and curtains appeared on polo-collared minidresses and sweatshirts. Sequined lipsticks, lobsters, and champagne flutes floated through space on a black velvet dress top. On one shirt, naughty Pre-Raphaelites had their bits blacked out. Elsewhere, those bits were barely concealed by openwork shimmery dresses.

Of course, when your theme so narrowly speaks to a certain age and social strata—the back of a satin bomber screamed the same callout from earlier, spelled properly this time—you potentially alienate everyone else. Which perhaps explains Holland's comparatively mature use of douppioni silk for a few retail-friendly suiting options plus the LBD (he also introduced a handbag range this season). So would a reformed party girl ever wear the ripped jeans stuffed with tulle poufs? She might. And then she'd insist on a selfie with her teenager.