I missed the Alexander McQueen exhibition when it was shown at the Met so have been glad to see the version of it at the V&A, so full of tailoring swagger, brocade and bustles and his trademark bumsters, as well as the darker and more sinister gothicism.   I was more impressed by the qualities of facture, the amazing floral detailing, the use of embroidery and the bleached felt roses, and the staggeringly inventive construction of his dresses, the transgressive formalism, than I was by the sometimes overblown theatrical romanticism and camp historicism.   In retrospect, it’s hardly surprising that he couldn’t maintain the pressure of invention.