Beauty takes centre stage as the V&A shows off a luscious bit of Victoriana

Evening museum openings are a delight.

I first encountered this trend in Italy, where the Capitoline Museums stayed open on one weeknight to an amazing 11pm. The joy of extending the precious hours of a sightseeing day was intense. By the time London museums really caught on, I was working there, and the excitement was less about stretching a day's tourism and more about the ability to tack some culture onto a workday and keep the weekend free for other things.

Much to my irritation, most of the major museums have moved their open nights to Fridays. Clearly, if they're all doing it, their marketing departments must have research to say this is a good thing. For me, it's an irritation. I'm rarely in London on Fridays, and if I'm organising something to kick off the weekend it's probably going to be more social than the quiet contemplation of art.

This Friday, however, the planets came into alignment. I was already in town. Piers had other plans, leaving me on my own. The V&A called. I dropped my briefcase at the cloakroom, moved quickly through the buzzy, jazz- and cocktail-filled main hall to the almost-empty galleries beyond. The Friday strategy has definitely turned some grand spaces into upscale drinking venues, but I'm not sure it's done much to promote culture. So much to my benefit, frankly, as I had the objective of my visit ... "The Cult of Beauty: The Aesthetic Movement 1850-1900" ... almost to myself.

I've always had a soft spot for this time period. There's William Morris with his lush floral patterns and medieval revivalism. Oscar Wilde spinning some of the finest wit to ever hit a page. Lawrence Alma-Tadema re-imagining the Roman world in sensuous paintings. Liberty's department store setting up in London to sell unique pieces of furniture and lush, oriental and Arabic-inspired fabrics. (It's no surprise they're a major sponsor of the show.) The aesthetic movement comes to life in a hotch potch of decorative items that might not immediately seem to fit together. The unifying factor is simple: it's all about beauty.

Grandfather of the movement William Morris is famous for stating: "have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." He and his colleagues were reacting, passionately, to the ugliness of the industrial revolution and the crass consumerism of the age. Thus their fascination with the foreign and the exotic. Whether evoking an idealised Roman or Medieval world, or depicting the charm of China or Arabia, they were always trying to get very far away from modern England. The irony, of course, was that all of their hand crafting (as opposed to the mass production bringing prices down elsewhere) was wildly expensive, meaning that many of the people embracing their style were precisely the robber barons driving the industry they so disliked.

The intellectual roots of the movement mean that the exhibit is, quite simply, beautiful. It seems less a worthy art show and more a wander through a particularly good day at Liberty's department store. There are lush portraits of pre-Raphaelite beauties, collections of blue and white pottery and the English versions, like those by de Morgan, that they inspired. There's lots of hand-painted furniture telling ancient, romantic tales. Greco-Roman inspiration runs throughout, but with a far looser, more opulent feel than the neo-classicism of the previous century. Peacocks and elaborate floral motifs adorn everything from fabric and furniture to jewelry and iron gates; solid colours and simplicity are not part of this trend.

I was most entranced by the costume display, including a brown velvet suit very close to the one Oscar Wilde wore in one of his most famous portraits. Seeing these clothes, overlooked by the detailed portraits of the people who wore such fashions and the furniture they surrounded themselves with, you got a keen sense of the people who drove this movement. Eccentric lovers of art and history, keen to embrace art, craft and design, wishing for the "good old days" but making lots of money from the modern world. Frankly, I like their style. Whether the people, and the lives they led, were as beautiful as what's portrayed here is doubtful. But it's a lovely, if almost soporific, thing to see. Soothing, gorgeous, rich. A great way to spend a quiet few hours.

Get moving, however, as The Cult of Beauty closes on 17 July.

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Other places to see the Aesthetic Movement
Reminded of past delights by this show, I offer some spectacular places to visit that bring this age to life:

Leighton House Museum - In Holland Park, London, Lord Leighton's studio and home is a temple to the art of this movement. Great collection of paintings, but the real show is the house itself, with its quirky exotic elements and lavish decoration. The two story central Arab Hall is a jaw dropper. No surprise that it's frequently used as a film set.

Standen - A National Trust-managed house in Sussex with amazing views and an interior that perfectly captures the whole movement. Particularly well known for its original William Morris wallpapers.

Whightwick Manor - Another NT property, similar to Standen in inspiration but heavier on the Medieval revival aspect of the time period. A great example of an industrial family (the owners ran a chemical and paint business) embracing the antithesis of their modern age in their personal lives. In Wolverhampton, outside of Birmingham.

An Ideal Husband - The 1999 film of the Oscar Wilde play captures the age perfectly. It's also one of the best Wilde adaptations on film, less known than others, I believe, because there's a dark and serious edge to the comedy.