Harvey Nichols, London's glitziest department store, has to date opened only one overseas branch - in the fabulously affluent Saudi Arabian capital, Riyadh writes Michael Parsons.
A visiting British public relations executive explained that the shop had been a favourite haunt of Diana, Princess of Wales. "We have thousands of Princesses here," sniffed an unimpressed Saudi official. Dublin may be short of royal females but the scheduled opening of the uber-chic emporium at Dundrum Town Centre in September confirms the capital's place among the world's wealthiest cities. Dubai and Hong Kong are also on the company's target list.
A royal coat of arms hangs forlornly above the entrance to the flagship store in Knightsbridge and customers still receive shopping bags inscribed: "By Appointment to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother, Drapers". Royal warrant-holders are allowed to retain the honour for five years after the death of the grantor, which in this case means another two years.
The store has been transformed from an elegant drapery into a high temple of international "designer wear". In a society where shopping has become the chief leisure activity, Harvey Nichols represents the apex of conspicuous consumption. It is the favoured destination for footballers' wives, girls with rich daddies - especially the sugared variety - and men who work in television production.
The company has its origins in a linen shop opened by Benjamin Harvey in 1813. His daughter linked up with Colonel Nichols in 1820 and the range expanded to include "oriental carpets, silks and luxury goods". The business passed through a variety of owners over the years and was floated on the London Stock Exchange in the heady 1990s when ladies who lunch had the added frisson of being able to buy shares in their favourite retail outlet.
Since de-listed and taken over by the Asian tycoon Dickson Poon, Harvey Nichols has expanded beyond its west London base with a series of regional stores in Leeds, Manchester, Edinburgh and Birmingham.
Known to its devotees as "Harvey Nicks", the store flogs the very latest frippery by the hottest designers from Christian Lacroix to Proenza Schouler. It is famed for avant-garde window displays which currently feature mannequins riding horses so authentic-looking that notices have been posted assuring the public that they are made from "fibreglass and synthetic fabric" (presumably to appease animal rights protesters).
Stepping inside is like wandering onto the set of Sex and the City. The experience is unlikely to appeal to people who wear sensible shoes, value common cents or look a day over 40. The street-level beauty halls, ventilated by a zephyr of spritzed scent and humming with the mwah-mwah of vigorous air-kissing, resemble the make-up department for the BAFTA awards. "Do my lips look big in this?" Service is provided by svelte men in black with a ciao-wow vocabulary who look like they've wandered out of a photo-shoot for Vogue Hommes and white-coated vendeuses offering A&E services for distressed skin at Clinique. However, unlike many "exclusive" London shops, the staff are not at all snooty and wouldn't bat a mascara-laden eyelid at "new money".
Spread throughout hundreds of departments is a glittering range of luxuries - beautifully lit and presented - and guaranteed to bamboozle even the brassiest tiding of magpies. A random selection from the dazzling array includes: a "wrinkle-busting technology" face cream called Sisley Ecological Compound (£84 for 125 ml); Alexander McQueen's "cool mint green and hot pink golf shoes" (£250) - perfect for an outing in Portmarnock; "the latest lust in wrist candy" - a metal ID bracelet by John Galliano (£95); and Rag & Bone jeans (£245) - which could be held up very nicely by a "leather belt with pirate buckle" by Ugo Cacciatoni (£505). And that's just the men's department.
The ladies' shoes range could rival the hoard once amassed by Imelda Marcos at the presidential palace in Manila and satisfy the avarice of even a Carrie Bradshaw.
Floor after dizzying floor of fashion and accessories offer everything from a "silk and lace camisole" by Stella McCartney to earrings by Jade Jagger, which should resolve, at a price, that age-old female dilemma: "I have nothing to wear".
The store's latest promotion is called, appropriately, "Vanity Week", and invites customers to "indulge in seven days of vanity and serious self-
gratification. . .forget about everyone else and put your guilt to one side, because it's time to look after Number One!" The Fifth Floor Bar, hung with Graham Knuttel paintings since long before that artist became a household name in Ireland, is a honey-pot for absolutely fabulous creatures in need of a pick-me-up after a tough morning burning the plastic. The house cocktails include a "Crème Brûlée" - a mix of "Absolut Vanilla Vodka, Cartron Vanilla liqueur, Cartron Caramel liqueur and double-cream garnished with butterscotch powder".
The Dublin shop will also have its own hostelry. The company has bought the license of the Moorings Bar in Crosshaven and applied, successfully, to the courts to have it transferred.
On the morning after the 1921 Anglo-Irish Treaty was signed, a West Cork blacksmith, crestfallen at the prospect of his business departing with the British cavalry, was reputedly consoled by his parish priest, who assured him that we'd have our own upper class.
"We will in our arse have our own gentry!" he replied. How wrong he was. And little could he have dreamed that the Queen Mother's drapers would cross the Irish Sea to serve them.