Shopping becomes a chore...

London shopping and shoppers are intertwined in a delicate love-hate relationship.

In short: the bargins are heaven. But to get the bargins one has to go through the scorching flames of hell.

Primark is the perfect epitome of the London shopping love affair.

Yesterday I purchased a fantastic "going-out-for-dinner" number for a mere £8 (NZD$17). Add a belt for £2 and a necklace for £1.50 I had most definitely nabbed myself a bargin.
Sure it all looks good on the surface...but the House of "Primani" (Primark+Armani=Primani) puts an innocent NZ Queen Street shopper through near-trauma.

First you need to understand exactly what Primark offers. For a girl on a budget it's jam-packed with tops, dresses, pants, swimwear, sleepwear, shoes underwear AND accessories all in this season's fashion for, in most cases, less than 1/4 the price of a "legit" brand.

Yes it's amazingly good value, and cheap enough that a (wannabe) fashionista can chuck the lot ahead of next season's trends.

The physical store itself, on the other hand, is not as alluringly as the prices.

For starters, the chain allows shoppers to lug around great baskets stacked to the brim with the cheap and nasty items. Women are often seen just dragging the baskets behind them, it simply gets to heavy to carry.

Secondly, it's so popular there's barely room to breathe. Visitors from all over Europe flock to Primark.
The Oxford Street store is perhaps the most multi-cultural location in the entire city. Unfortunately the popularity means you're ushered into Primark on a multi-cultural wave of people all headed for the same direction off the street. Various languages fly about you while you try to remember what you actually came in for.
"Browsing" is simply not concept acceptable in Primark. Instead shoppers grab arms-full of items, throwing them on the floor in front of a spare mirror and begin trying them on over top of their clothes. Or in some cases actually dis-robing in public.

Why not go to a changing room you may ask. Well it takes at least 20 minutes (on a good day) to get into a fitting room.

Then there's the attitude of shoppers. Everyone is there for a bargin. Every shopper is a direct threat to another shopper - it's all competition. In addition, the sheer lack of personal space simply makes everyone angrier. People never say "excuse me" in Primark, instead they shove.
I actually saw a woman knock a child over with her basket because she was intent on getting to the check-out.

Then if you actually manage to decide on an item or twenty the line up to the check-outs can be up to 50 people long.

But it doesn't stop there. Post-Primark is almost just as lacking in style. After perhaps an hour of arm-wrestling, weight-lifting and endurance shoppers emerge exhausted onto Oxford street.

On weekends they can be seen sitting clustered along the window-ledges of the giant store, and in groups near the doorway surrounding by hundreds of the iconic brown paper Primark bags - they do still have money in their wallet though.