Designers of clothes are well known for finding inspiration in the strangest of places. Accordingly, we professional fashion watchers are used to hearing about patterns drawn from Belgian beermat designs of the 1930s, capes inspired by calotypes of the American Civil War or entire collections which are described by their creators as – let's pluck something entirely plausible out of the ether – The Revenant-meets-Cher-meets-Bingo from The Banana Splits. But apart from the ubiquitous tweeds and tartans, it's rare to see a designer citing an influence as close to home as the one Patrick Grant has wheeled out for his autumn-winter collection of menswear. Close to my home, anyway. And to my heart.

If you know Grant's name, it's probably from the Great British Sewing Bee. The suave, Edinburgh-born designer is one of the judges. But his day job is as head honcho at upmarket tailors E Tautz, who showed earlier this month at London Collections: Men, the main fashion showcase for British menswear. Among those on the front row were model David Gandy, rapper Tinie Tempah and TV presenter Dermot O'Leary and they, like the lesser mortals at the back by the fire exit, were treated to a show inspired by a venue in which I spent many a happy hour. And many a Happy Hour.

As Grant explained in the show's accompanying handout: “In the mid 1980s, kids in Edinburgh went to Coasters Roller Disco at Tollcross. If you could do backwards crossovers and spins, the older boys would begrudgingly acknowledge you with a glower. Some of the cute girls with the big hair might smile. Otherwise you were invisible. The cool kids wore Gabicci jumpers with the suede strips. And some Gallini. Everyone else wore St Michael. They played Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Evelyn Thomas, Eurythmics and Hazel Dean.”

Now I confess I never actually donned a pair of roller skates, though I was (and still am) well acquainted with the threads of St Michael and remain partial to a spot of Eurythmics if the mood's right. But in the hazy world of Edinburgh nightclubs, Coasters went under many guises and by many names and I did visit many of them. I even ventured upstairs, to a sort of sticky-floored attic dungeon where The Hoochie Coochie Club happened. I don't remember there being many Gabicci jumpers or backwards crossovers at the Hooch, but there was plenty of PVC and some fairly forward cross-dressers. Happy days.

To return to Coasters, however, I'm more than a little amused by the gulf between Patrick Grant's take on the club's sartorial traditions and the documentary evidence. For the E Tautz show, for instance, the models were decked out in pleated woollen trousers, cashmere cardigans, trench coats, double-breasted overcoats, super-cool duffel coats and flouncy silk scarves. Looking at the photographs of the Coasters punters that I've been able to dig up, all I see is kids on roller skates wearing bad jeans, bad hair and tank tops.

Still, who cares what a mid-1980s Edinburgh roller disco was actually like? What's important here is the emotions a nostalgic memory of the place can evoke – and the way those memories are parlayed into something of beauty which, if you have the lucre, you can wear. Bravo, Mr Grant.