SINGAPORE: Retail Overload

The modernity and sterility of Singapore comes as something of a shock after months of living in Vietnam. My travel companion Dave and I find ourselves gaping at the skyscrapers, the clean streets and sidewalks, and the well-dressed Singaporeans. The women in particular have our jaws on the floor. Half the population of Singapore seems to be made up of attractive women in their 20s. This is not meant as any disrespect to Vietnamese women, who are also quite lovely, but there's something about how the Singaporean women dress, put themselves together, and carry themselves that makes them incredibly attractive. The stylishness of Singaporeans is probably explained in part by the city's love affair with high-end retail.

Critics have called Singapore "the only shopping mall with a seat at the UN." At first I laughed at this assessment, thinking it a flippant remark made by some anti-consumerism get-back-to-nature hippie type. Having been here a few days, though, I'm starting to agree. I've never seen such commercial materialism in my life. Practically every non-governmental building seems to have a shopping mall. I swear that half these malls have the same stores, most of which are quite high-end. I frankly don't know how they all stay in business. How many Rolex, Charles & Keith, Prada and Chanel outlets does a city need? The epicenter of this retail onslaught is Orchard Road, a kilometer-long stretch of shopping mall after shopping mall. There must be at least a dozen malls lining the road, no exaggeration.

Even the subway takes on the appearance of a giant outdoor shopping center. The subway stops have marble-looking floors and walls and are decked out with mall-style advertisements. The train is automated with no driver, and a glass doorway aligns with the train doorway. The glass doorway opens only when the train doors do, so the entire station sounds like a shopping center, largely devoid of the engine sounds and whoosh of air as in New York or Washington, DC. You could be forgiven for forgetting that you're trying to catch a train, not a pair of shoes.