I begin with a long haul to La Vallée Village, 3 cours de la Garonne, Serris (tel: (0) 1 60 42 35 00), an outlet destination that is a bargain hunter’s delight. Ferragamo patent heels and some Miss Sixty denims (patched with red sequins and ribbed sporty stripes – almost impossible to find in regular stores), all coupled with a tax refund when splurging over 175 Euros, make my first day score a high nine on the ‘requisite daily shopping quota’ ratings. Then on to Rue Rivoli, where a web of brands like Zara, André, 123, H&M and Mango await the quick swipe of my already tired credit card (debit cards are constricting and one can’t afford to waste even milliseconds on calculations and conversions when shop-hopping in France). The plush lanes of Avenue Montaigne and Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré yield to me the Christian Dior trotter from the Spring/ Summer 2005 line – after a lot of arm twisting, that is. Parisians across the city have already grabbed this now scarce favourite (I admit I was a bit confused myself, what with Fendi, Yves Saint Laurent and Colette all crying out for my limited attention – I am on a two hour timer as another trendy district also beckons). A detour to Printemps, 64 Boulevard Haussmann (tel: (0) 1 42 82 58 65) is where I then find myself, shelling out a few extra thousands for a green suede, ‘Angel’ imprinted Juicy Couture mini-tote. It would be more cost-effective in its native USA, but then my ‘right here right now’ theme song saves me from the lost-out syndrome. Neighbouring Galeries Lafayette (tel: (0) 1 42 82 35 50) now has three floors dedicated to women’s fashion, and I have one inadequate afternoon here! I hit the bullseye at UK’s Karen Millen section, where a shimmering aqua cowl dress is packaged with purple ribbon – my gift to myself for gracefully leaving this haven of Missoni, Pink Soda, Kenzo, Stella McCartney and Miu Miu at the scheduled time of departure. I adopt the dual personality of tourist and local to get the best of both worlds. The former trots to Champs Elyseés and finds herself absorbed in sign language with the salesperson at Morgan (the scratched measuring tape verifies that precisely 1 and 3/4th inches need to be snipped off my latest diamanté jeans).

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