Shanghai, Full of Surprises

Shanghai is a city in a hurry. This mass of jostling skyscrapers, sliced in two by the busy Huangpu River, is a place of chaotic traffic, crowded pavements and endless construction. And right now it's one of the world's most exciting destinations to wield a credit card in.

In the 1920s and 1930s, when the metropolis was a trading center of Asia, Shanghai's style-conscious ladies were the first Far Eastern women to adopt silk stockings, high heels, marcelled hair and other Western fashions, just as they now embrace the modern equivalent: pencil-thin pants and tunic tops. On the city's major shopping thoroughfare, Nanjing Xi Lu, all the international mainstays, such as Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Hermès and Chanel, are present, keen to conquer China's luxury-goods market. With the country's economic boom in full swing, however, its homegrown designers are blossoming as never before. My mission in Shanghai is not to plunder the labels I can find back home in London, for which I'd pay a 20 to 30 percent premium here anyway, but to discover local talents in the pedestrian-friendly enclaves of the Bund, the French Concession and Xintiandi.

I have no grasp of Mandarin, and it quickly becomes clear that the best way for a foreigner to tackle Shanghai is by taxicab. A staggering three million people use cabs every day; it never seems to cost more than five dollars for a thirty-minute ride. My quest starts when I follow a friend's instructions and am dropped at the foot of the unkempt stairs in an apartment complex in the bustling neighborhood of Lao Xi Men, just south of the Bund. I immediately wonder if I'm in the right place. But when I reach the third-floor atelier of Lu Kun(69 An Lan Lu; 011-86-138-1688-2676), I'm met by the eminent Shanghai designer, darling of the city's glitzy set, thanks to his custom-made couture, which he refers to as art wear.

"The Shanghai woman likes to draw attention to herself," he says, plucking a dress from one of the four or five racks scattered around his studio. I have to agree when I imagine the self-confidence required to carry off the shocking pink corset top attached to some wispy shards of chiffon he's holding up. He also shows me a slinky version of the qipao, the Mandarin version of the more commonly known Cantonese cheongsam, in an electric shade of turquoise piped with vermilion; the top detaches from the dress, letting you mix and match the skirt and shirt. At around $6,000 apiece, Lu's creations are not cheap, but their glamour is undeniable. Plus, when compared with what you'd pay in Paris for the same handstitched quality, these confections are a steal.

My next stop is Zhongshan Dong Yi Lu, otherwise known as the Bund, a glorious sweep of Art Deco buildings that housed the trading floors of the city's mercantile center back when Shanghai was called the Paris of the East. These days most structures overlooking the Huangpu River are home to commerce of a different kind: boutiques, upmarket malls and glossy restaurants.

It's in one of these buildings, Bund 18, that I seek out Younik(2/F Bund 18; 011-86-21-6323-7066; bund18.com) . This minimalist shop is one of the few stores in Shanghai that specialize in Chinese designers. I'm eager to see the work of rising star Zhang Da, who produces his collection in a small apartment. Zhang prefers to use flat cutting, with no darts, and other time-honored Chinese methods, and it's fair to say his creations don't have much instant hanger appeal. I'm not usually a fan of such amorphous looks, but the cleverness and originality of a black jersey circle called the O shirt, which drapes around my shoulders, neck and waist in all the right places, make me a convert.

Down a lane off the riverfront is the flagship of Annabel Lee(1 Lane 8, the Bund; 011-86-21-6445-8218; annabel-lee.com), which in-the-know friends said should not be missed. With purses, blankets, pajamas and clothing in a jewel box of colors and a range of subtle styles, Lee has updated traditional Chinese silk weaving and embroidery to attract a modern audience. I can't resist a full-length black cashmere robe ($400), which will be the ideal Christmas gift for my hard-to-buy-for husband.

I ignore the shiny Armani store nearby and find myself in the sleek interior of Shiatzy Chen(Bund 9; 011-86-21-6321-9155 shiatzychen.com;). The women's, men's and housewares collections of this luxurious Taiwanese brand have high prices and subdued palettes that whisper "stealth wealth." I opt for a chocolate brown knitted silk tie, a relative bargain at $100, but have to restrain myself from buying up all the cinched-at-the-waist jackets sporting Asian twists, like delicately embroidered collars.

for many visitors, the french concession's tree-lined streets, European-style villas and boutiques and restaurants make it the city's most appealing quarter. My first stop there is the Cha Gang store (1F, 70 Yongfu Lu; 011-86-21-6437-3104; chagang.cn), where I meet Wang Yiyang. One of the most successful designers in the country, the soft-spoken thirty-eight-year-old launched his first label, ZucZug, in 2002 and never looked back. Later, inspired by the simple garments of the working class, he created jerseys, knits and cottons that he sells through his high-end diffusion label Cha Gang. In the shop, exemplifying Wang's idiosyncratic approach to style, his monochromatic, minimalist pieces mingle with household items and stuffed toys in a seemingly haphazard (though surely orchestrated) manner.

Upon exiting Cha Gang, I can't help eyeing the adorable children's clothes in the window of Rouge Baiser(299-2 Fuxing Xi Lu; 011-86-21-6431-8019; rougebaiser-elise.com), next door, where I finally give in and buy a cashmere cardigan for my young niece ($50) for about half what it would cost in a chic London children's boutique. Then I hail a taxi to the Jin Jiang Hotel, built in 1929 as luxurious residences for some of Shanghai's well-heeled French expats. These genteel surroundings are the backdrop for the by-appointment-only design studio and boutique Han Feng (59 Maoming Lu, Grosvenor House, Suite 3EF; 011-86-1370-176-4060; hanfeng.com). Han is one of China's most internationally admired fashion talents (she designed the costumes for the late Anthony Minghella's 2005 production of Madama Butterfly). The 1930s apartment has dark floors, white walls and tastefully scattered objets; a caged bird, one of six, squawks "nihao" (Mandarin for "hello") in the background. I feel as if I'd wandered onto the set of a Wong Kar-Wai film as I work my way through rows of dresses, skirts, scarves and shirts in intricately pleated and embroidered silks and diaphanous, figure-skimming satins. I know I won't be able to depart without the milky pearls strung on a duo of chocolate and turquoise velvet ribbons ($240).

Leaving these calm confines behind, I turn the corner onto Changle Lu, where patience and dedication are prerequisites for browsing in the frenetic jumble of tiny boutiques. Since many of the overruns from Shanghai's factories are sold here, the street is a must-see for the bargain hunter and the fashion fiend. It can be a bit hit-or-miss, though, as I learn when I wander into several shops and turn on my heel upon spying loads of poorly made Marc Jacobs knockoffs. But I persevere. My reward comes when I stumble on Even Penniless(139-3 Changle Lu; 011-86-21-5306-0466), the pick of the bunch; its almost all-black Helmut Lang-esque display is something you might find in a chic boutique in London or Paris (again, at a fraction of the cost). I snap up a few pieces while noting that with the approach of the city's gridlocked rush hour, my chances of getting a taxi are diminishing. As soon as I spot an empty one, I fly out of the store, climb inside and head to Xintiandi.

xintiandi is a slice of shanghai's atmospheric past repackaged for a newer, richer generation. In the early 1990s, a consortium of Chinese developers restored several blocks of old stone gatehouses called shikumen, and soon Xintiandi became one of the trendiest areas in town, crammed with boutiques, restaurants and international coffee chains. Its car-free streets are a welcome relief after a day spent navigating crowded sidewalks, but for me, Xintiandi's charm is a little too Disney perfect.

Nonetheless, I am eager to stop by Wang Yiyang's futuristic ZucZug(Building 2, South Block, Lane 123 Xingye Lu; 011-86-21-6384-6322; zuczug.com), then secure a pricey decorative souvenir at Lehman & Qian(119 Madang Lu, Unit 2; 011-86-21-6385-1805; lehmanqian.com) . Beloved by expats and well-heeled residents alike, this shop sells exquisite hand-painted silk wallpaper, fabric, cushions and lampshades. When I arrive at the Shanghai Trio Boutique(Lane 181, Taicang Lu; 011-86-21-6355-2974; shanghaitrio.com), it's almost closing time, and the displays of housewares in natural fabrics and soft cashmere blankets ($410) are inducing a severe case of jet lag. But before the doors are locked, I grab some stylish linen place mats and silk tassels. Night is falling; I know the only cure for my flagging energy is to avoid the throngs spilling into Xintiandi's restaurants and return to the Grand Hyatt Shanghai(double rooms from $515; 88 Century Blvd.; 888-591-1234; shanghai.grand.hyatt.com), in Pudong's famous Jin Mao Tower, for the ultimate post-shopping pick-me-up: a soothing foot massage. It's one Shanghai tradition I hope will never change.