Waking up yesterday morning was very uneventful for me. On other days I have been enthusiastically jumping out of my bed and into an outfit fitting for the days’ activities.
However yesterday, I only somehow managed to roll out of bed and into a not-so-comfortable outfit to face the first part of my day…. Shopping.
I am not a shopaholic nor do I enjoy pointlessly wandering about department stores filled with name brands and wanna-be name brands. I do not fantasize about designer dresses or the new line that whoever is about to release. Basically, having a morning filled with Harrods filled me with disgust and a slight amount of self-loathing.
(Although the Disney Store did become my safe haven and when I stepped outside the brown sugar sculptors were awesome).
You will be pleased to hear, despite the first encounter, I survived.
The HUGE store with little to no advertisement around the city was filled top to bottom (which includes 7 levels by American terms) with designers, name brands, and sales.
Everything was so expensive, I probably couldn’t even afford a hanger. The place was literally the cave of wonders for shopaholics: you can look, but you can’t touch anything, no matter how tempting it might be.
I will admit, that previous statement may have been a little dramatic, there were certain stores that were reasonably priced (I even bought a little travel coffee mug, that I later filled with sweet potato fries… that’s a different story though).
Once I took a step back, and looked past my melodramatic attitude, I realized, Harrods is actually more of a Venus-flytrap for shopaholics. Harrods creates a very loyal relationship with their customers, and the other stores they provide space for. Basically, if a brand was in Harrods, they’ve made it. There were designers that I have never even heard of, but I knew they were big because they were right next to Prada and Micheal Kors. And once that shopaholic steps over the threshold, it’s over. They get lost and end up buying everything.
As for the marketing and advertisements for Harrods itself: I would have never known about this Cave of Wonders had everyone I had come in contact not been talking about it. Harrods is the “it” department store here and even though there is not advertisements all over the city, plastered on billboards and underground stations or marketed across sidewalks and newspapers, the people of London, and any shopper even remotely up to date, markets for Harrods.
Although I had never heard of Harrods before, everyone else seemed to have heard and known of them before, and they were just killing to get through those doors.
Going to Harrods was not a shopping trip for me, however, it was an experience in itself. One that I personally am not going to do again without purpose. I know that if I was a shopaholic, I never would have left the place. I mean, it’s a livable place: restaurants on each floor, furniture galleries with beds big enough to fit my whole class, and I would surely never run out of clothes.
But anyone who knows me knows I would never wish that fate on my worst enemy.
Nice try London, but you didn’t get me this time!