After living in Albania, much of life in England seemed luxurious: 24-hour electricity, potable tap water, heated towel rails, the existence of milkmen. But a luxury one day, can become ordinary the next. Melanie delves deep into luxury shopping this month and discovers what “branded” really means!

The Sound of Luxury

Two sentinel red Daleks stand in the window; other motionless alien warriors take position behind them throughout the bright space-age shop. Going bravely forth, I step inside. The sign above the door reads, Bang & Olufsen.

There are alien monopods everywhere, and among them a bipod – clearly their leader. Retrospectively dressed in tweed, she points a sleek black and aluminium transformer at me. I expect to hear my doom pronounced with the word 'Exterminate', but instead she says, 'Welcome. Would you like to see the newly launched Serenata? Our GSM 900 mobile phone and incorporated music system?' It's futile to resist.

Niken Kusumaningtyas, Senior Saleswoman, not only sells luxury products, but gives outstanding customer service – a rare luxury indeed in Jakarta. 'The Serenata is designed for customers who love music, and won't compromise on quality,' Niken says. As she runs her forefinger around the central navigation wheel, a world of technology appears on the screen. 'It holds 1,000 MP3 tracks, and can play uncompressed music files – giving you CD quality on your phone.' She slides up the speaker, and sets the phone upright on its aluminium stand. Nora Jones begins to serenade us from within.

GSM 900 means it can make and receive calls from anywhere on planet Earth, and at $ 1,926, this bijou toy is light years beyond my budget. Other notable designs were the Daleks in the window, otherwise known as the BeoLab 9 speakers: $ 10,902, and the BeoLab 5 speakers - which automatically analyse the acoustics of your room, and tailor their performance accordingly to give you optimum sound: $ 25,801.

Draped in Luxury

There is a feminine peaches and champagne ambience to the recently-opened Jean Paul Gaultier shop. Jazz plays quietly. The saleswoman offers assistance.

1. I'm looking for a dress.
2. Long or short? And, do you like vibrant colours?

I reply, and she snaps her fingers. Two male assistants appear from stage left and right, and in 30 seconds present me with an assortment of dresses according to my request. I'm starting to rather enjoy luxury shopping.

In the moodily-lit dressing room, three glamorous dresses await me in a shabby heap. I'm not sure why Indonesian dress shops insist on removing the coat-hangars before you enter the dressing rooms: Rp 24.7 million worth of gorgeous fabric sadly crumpled on a pouffe.

When I left the dressing room, the saleswoman had already chosen an alternative dress for me to try: a Rp 19.4 million honey-coloured Greek goddess gown with an exposed mid-drift; she did all the buttons up for me.

'There's a 40% discount,' she added strategically. I somewhat reluctantly left Gaultier: their customer service had also been exemplary, highlighting the absence of such service in non-luxury shops. Very helpfully, they recommended I try Alberta Ferretti. 'She also has a 40% promo.' Is my cover blown?

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