How many times can John Galliano exhume the dead bodies of down and out courtesans? We've watched them rise and fall like the shallow breaths of a consumptive concubine. Opiates no longer muffle the roar or dull the ache that she must feel trodding that sodden path. Now it's not much more than a side street littered with memories. I miss the brilliance he brought to the house years ago . The inventive cuts, the compelling themes and most of all the clothes that I think women craved. Now it just feels like a cookbook of too often prepared TV dinners. Sure, the work is technically superb and way beyond the scope of many in this field. But I can't help wondering how much more intriguing they would be if he would take it forward instead of listing in the harbor. There is a swing that seems to be one of freshness and debauchery. His woman teeters between prehab and rehab. She needs a fresh start. He needs to take a step back and make a leap forward into this century. The treasures of a past age have been strip mined. It's time for a new site.