The first thing which grabs my attention is a photo of a very glamourous bus conductress from 1950s Birmingham.

Dressed in a pristine uniform, she’s beautifully made-up, with immaculate hair and large gold earrings. This pride in one's appearance, linked to self-respect, is a recurring theme throughout the show.

The section titled, England, is the place for me looks at black people arriving in Britain from other countries. Dr Beryl Gilroy came to England in the 1950s and on display is one of her smart suits, brought from Guyana, next to the winter coat she bought when she arrived.

Nearby is the ornate festive gown and headwrap packed hastily by Zarrah Ahmed-Kadi as she fled to England from the violence in Sierra Leone in 1994.

"It was just one of the things that I just got into a suitcase… it reminds you of your lifestyle back home."

Black power and politics are explored in Respect yourself. A 'Free Angela Davis' t-shirt, worn in the early 70s by a Birmingham woman, sits next to a photo of Diane Abbott (Britain's first black woman MP) at the 1984 Labour conference in Blackpool, wearing a t-shirt with the slogan 'Black Section'.

Calling Rastafari, Hallelu-Jah looks at Rastafari's rise to prominence in the 1970s, with a collection of clothes and hats from the time, in the traditional colours of red, gold and green. The 'Freedom One Day' t-shirt, a 2002 collaboration between artist Chris Ofili and designer Joe Casely-Hayford uses these same colours.

Many period photos illustrate that dreadlocks and the Afro hairstyle were worn as religious or political statements.

Hairstyling is also a big part of looking good - elaborate styles are created with plaits, weaves and hairpieces, straightening and perming.

A video shows recent footage of young black men in the barbers, having their hair clipped and sculpted into the latest designs.

Win the lost at any cost, shows us clothes worn by black Christian churchgoers, including a collection of hats belonging to a pastor's wife, and a selection of pastel-coloured women's suits with carefully co-ordinated accessories.

Dressing smartly and modestly for church is considered to honour to God and one's family.

Photos of members of the Nation of Islam show that they too follow a respectful dress code. Malcolm X decreed that black Muslim men should be "quietly, tastefully dressed".

Fix up, look sharp examines the links between dress and the different genres of black music.

Drum and bass DJ Goldie has lent 48 pairs of trainers - most are boxfresh. Also on display are puffa jackets, doo rags (stocking caps) and baseball caps - which are worn in a variety of ways - back-to-front or under a hood, for example - each with their own connotations.

There are a lot of sportswear labels on show - Kangol, Rocawear, and Adidas; as well as Walé Adeyemi's much-imitated graffiti-print designs, given mainstream kudos by David Beckham (named Britain's most famous black man by Channel Four, after all).

Then there's the 'bling' - gold and platinum jewellery covered in diamonds (or fakes good enough to look the part), worn with Dior, Vuitton and Chanel (fake too if you can’t afford the real thing); and the racy clothing worn by female fans of dancehall music - including some eye-popping batty riders (hot pants).

One of the most interesting contemporary outfits on show belongs to 'vamp goth' Monique Boucaud - a fishnet top, ra-ra mini kilt, studded belt and biker boots - a style of clothing which originates from white culture and music and is rarely seen on young black people.

Ska is represented by a 2-Tone fan's suit and pork pie hat, alongside a photo of a 1974 Specials gig.

Bringing things up to date are outfits from UK garage group Mis-Teeq and a red leather tracksuit designed for hip-hop / R&B singer, Ms Dynamite.

My one regret about the exhibition, however, is that more emphasis could have been placed on the influence black British style has had on white British style.

This strikes me particularly when I spot a pair of fat-tongued trainers, next to Neneh Cherry's 1989 'Raw Like Sushi' album - both icons of my teenage years.

At my predominantly white school in the late 80s, the black kids led the way in cool. You only have to look at a bunch of white kids in the street to see this is still the case.

It is a fascinating show, exploring the significance of different facets of black style in Britain, and using garments, photography, film and other artefacts to illustrate how it has evolved over the decades.

For someone living in Britain but outside the black community, this is engaging and enlightening.

For more information on the exhibition, visit the V&A's dedicated microsite.