Westfield. What Credit Crunch?

When Westfield opened its doors in October of last year, the critics pointed and laughed. The centre is an ironic £1.6 billion monument to the recession currently sweeping the nation, echoing the S&L crisis of the ’80s.

Early media response to the behemoth shopping mall was lukewarm at best. Customers were reluctant to part with their money, some stores quickly went into foreclosure and expensive designer goods were no match for the come-hither, single-use temptation of Primark. It’s four months later, and Mr Westfield (if he, indeed, exists) is laughing all the way to the bank.

The shopping centre (so called because of the English tendency to take American terms and make them sound as quaint and refined as possible) is spacious, luxurious and futuristic. The marble floors are so unfathomably shiny and clean that it feels like visiting a very rich school friend’s house, where you’re unsure of what the shoe-removing protocol is. The Village, an annex of the centre which houses the designer, high-end brands, is doubly so – here, pink chandeliers illuminate the couture-clad mannequins and teenage girls run about waving their Louis Vuitton shopping bags in the face of recession (and mere middle-class mortals).

Even on a Saturday afternoon there is plenty of space to accommodate everybody’s shopping needs. Unlike shopping on the High Street, which inevitably means crowds, eyes under constant threat of umbrella spikes, mud and souvenir shops, Westfield is a calm and classy affair. It’s warm, it’s indoors and everything you could possibly need is right here under one roof. That is, if all you ever need is clothes and food, as this is all that’s on offer here, aside from the odd gadget store or florist.

The clothes, though, are fabulous for both boys and girls. All the classics are here, from New Look to DKNY, and they are all trying to stay afloat in the current economic situation by offering ‘up to 75 per cent off!’ Of course, none of them actually offer 75 per cent off on anything except, say, mints, but the genuine sales offers available make it well worth the trip. This is the place to stock up on business suits (M&S is running some great deals) and quirky fashion items (like Topshop, the retail icon of Agyness-Deyn-worshipping Generation Y).

Feeling peckish? Unlike shopping on the slimy grey streets of almost-spring London, you can stuff yourself with more than just stale, overpriced sandwiches from conglomerate coffee chains. Here, you can indulge in a wide variety of exotic, healthy and filling dishes. Enjoy a delicious fresh salad from Tossed, or traditional dim sum from Bamboo Basket, but only after a 50-people-deep queue and at ‘well you’re here anyway’ prices. On a more familiar note, old classics like Nando’s and Pizza Express also make their home here. Sporadically scattered throughout the mall are also little snack and dessert stands, which offer healthy smoothies, sexy milkshakes and yummy pick ‘n’ mix.

Overall, Westfield is a comfortable, hedonistic shopping experience, to the point of being surreal. Aside from a few aesthetic gaps in the ceiling, there are no windows, which makes time completely obsolete. Hundreds of scheming girls breathe heavily at the prospect of bargain couture and men wander aimlessly lost, spoilt for choice. It would not be too surprising to see a Westfield-set zombie film in the near future, as the imposingly high ceilings and fragile-looking décor make it oddly claustrophobic. This is the place to head for some unapologetic consumerism and people-watching. With a cinema due to be completed later on this year, this is the closest thing many of us will have to a futuristic space-cruise holiday.