Lanvin, Mayfair: come the retail revolution...

This was a medium-sized store consisting of three rooms with a large window in which there was a display that caught the eye and demanded attention, if only because it provided a stark contrast with the old-moneyed surroundings that characterise this part of London. Featuring mannequins with abstract features and bling jewellery, it might not be to everybody’s taste, but you couldn’t help but look.

And inside, it ticked all the boxes. The handbags, which seemed to form a central part of the offer, were housed in tall, museum-style display cases, the mid-shop had a black sofa and chairs with a coffee table on which a scented candle was ensuring that the place smelt (as well as looked) affluent. Couture-looking dresses were to be found on runner rails around the perimeter. And beyond all this and to the right was a room with monochrome wallpaper, more expensive stuff and to top it all, of course, the obligatory black-suited doorman and icily polite sales assistants.

It is perhaps inherent in this form of retailing that if, as a customer, you don’t look the part, you will be made, consciously or otherwise, to feel uncomfortable. This sense was increased, however, by an American couple, seated on the black sofa, who were being feted by the staff with glasses of champagne-style cordial and mini cupcakes…which they were feeding to an over-clipped white poodle that was sporting a grey, cable-knit jersey dress with pockets on its back.

It is at this point that you tend to step back from admiring the environment, the stock or anything else and quietly gasp at the Marie Antoinette pointlessness of it all. Doubtless these were very good Lanvin shoppers (apologies, clients), but there was more than a whiff of conspicuous consumption about this display of privilege that didn’t quite chime with anything that was happening on Oxford Street, just a few hundred yards away.

What this store did succeed in doing was making you realise just how good most mid-market retailers are in terms of the appearance of their stores and the stock they offer for a fraction of the price. This may be perhaps be missing the luxury point, but give me the democratic environments of Marks & Spencer, H&M or Zara any day.