The word ‘sale’ should make it to the list of top aphrodisiacs or positive adrenaline boosters. There’s something about Gucci going 50 per cent off retail price that suddenly transforms me into an excitable early morning bird who takes out the time to consume a nourishing breakfast before heading out to face life (read stores offering massive bargains) with a sunny outlook. Even a regular inflow of chocolates and caviar cannot manage to induce such a state of happy affairs.

Eva Longoria, she of the racy lingerie and sexy stilettos would agree. ‘Honoured’ to inaugurate the Harrods sale last December, the petite bombshell splurged on a pre-tour of shoes, bags and coats, and £35k later, called for two vans to whisk her precious purchases back to the hotel. Neat work, Eva!
Then there are some of us who don’t possess the madly impulsive gene that Eva flashes in abundance. Some of us are ‘list dependent’. We walk around with a trailing sheet that lists derby hats, suede boots in burgundy and camel pleated wide-legged trousers, in order of preference. Mapping out your route for the day would make for another list. Sale queues for branded stores are sometimes long; I once missed out on a desperately-needed Dior trotter while admiring the pastel-clothed mannequins in Chloe’s show window.

The ‘list’ works, as long as you make provision for occasional detours. My recent sojourn into the Monsoon Essentials set-up at Saks Fifth Avenue garnered me an eerily apt dusky pink umbrella with the slogan ‘Shower Me With Couture’ – in short, wandering about aimlessly helps.
Keep a watch handy though, you don’t want to waste too much time and miss out on Bottega Veneta’s embroidered ‘Nappa’ tote at half price. In fact, a steel and gold Bvlgari with a bunch of Cartier trinity rings is all the accessorising you need; necklaces and earrings getting stuck on gossamer blousons during hurried trials had me flinging the cursed charms deep into my bottomless hobo.

Note: Keep cash and cards in an easily accessible front pocket. I have once hurled out the entire contents of my shoulder bag in order to find those crucial dollars and in the process, broken my phone and lost a much-loved vintage scarf that was dumped in.

As for the dress code, I have been handed pearls of wisdom by Barney’s personal shoppers. Be comfortable, but chic. Looking like hag lady from hell won’t get you the undivided attention from the Fendi salesman who closely guards the metallic evening clutches, showing them only to the select and persistent few. Your best options are drawstring linens or a flimsy flared skirt with an easy strappy top – the former stays put when you have a load of dressy jackets to try on, the latter, when you’re wading through last year’s skinny jeans from Stella McCartney. Pull on your favourite Manish Arora embroidered umbrella skirt or a Namrata Joshipura trench if you’re fighting chilly climes and you will definitely attract great service. On the flipside, the numerous compliments and queries on where-to-obtain-the-exact-replica’ could sway you from the day’s intent purpose.