David Bowie Is

Nearly a decade with nary a squeak from the house husband and suddenly this embarrassment of riches arrives, hot on the heels of David Bowie's new and most excellent album, The Next Day.

Here I am praying at the altar, the eagerly awaited launch of his very own exhibition at the V&A museum.

My heart throbs, my eyes goggle. I'm falling in love all over again.

Wednesday's launch party carried a fitting sense of occasion like the rock events of old. I say a quick hi to Noel Gallagher, ogle Bowie lookalike Tilda Swinton, listen to Tracy Emin's speech about swigging sherry to early Bowie and hear Gary Kemp plan a film about Bowie's much-loved sidekick, the late Mick Ronson.

One glance at the heaving crowd and I realise that there's a new measure of wealth and taste. Forget tight buns - the mark of today's pampered elite is a tight face.

On entry, I am immediately transported back to my childhood as a serious Bowie kiddie camping out all night to secure front-row tickets at the Hammersmith Odeon and the Kilburn State Gaumont, which was glimpsed in the DA Pennebaker Ziggy Stardust movie.

The radio headset is a vital part of the experience, surrounding you with super-duper 3D audio as you walk around. I wasn't sure what the Carl Andre floor tiles were doing in the first bit but it sets the scene for Bowie As Serious Artist, a status the rest of the exhibition confirms.

This extensive selection from the Bowie archive has everything a fan could wish for, barring the presence of the great man himself.

From his earliest artistic influences - Warhol, Burroughs - his first appearance in the public eye as spokesperson for The Society For The Prevention Of Cruelty To Long Haired Men, the space race - Space Oddity, Starman - welcome to Bowie World.

The scraps of paper on which Bowie scribbled lyrics and notes demonstrate that this wasn't a person merely churning out product. This was someone in the seat with the clearest view of worlds of imaginative possibility.

Many of the costumes on show seem strangely drab and unmagical without Bowie filling them out but the wing-legged Kansai Yamamoto outfit shines - literally - as does the bizarre black and white one-piece, influenced by Sonia Delauney, beside a screen depicting it in action for Bowie's stunning 1979 performance of The Man Who Sold The World on Saturday Night Live.

By the time we reach the final hall where 30-foot high Davids and Micks sing to us, I remember why I fell for him the first time round.

I'm ready to do the whole thing again.

Runs until August 11. Box office: (020) 7942-2211.