Conor Pope: Out of my comfort zone, wandering around Harrods in the wrong trousers

Despite my outrage at the prices, I resolved not to leave without buying at least one thing

There was a dress for an eight-year-old with a price tag of £5,050 – and no, that is not a misprint. Photograph: Istock

There was a dress for an eight-year-old with a price tag of £5,050 – and no, that is not a misprint. Photograph: Istock

I’ve rarely felt as adrift from my comfort zone as I did last week when I found myself wandering slack-jawed through the gilded halls of Harrods in the wrong trousers.

As soon as I walked through the heavy metal doors I knew it wasn’t the place for me. Beautiful men with perma-tans, artfully sculpted facial hair and teeth as white as their crotch-hugging jeans strutted the halls like they owned them. Some were so dazzled by their amazingness that they had to wear sunglasses indoors. Armies of perfectly made-up women looking like – I imagine – Kardashians struggled with bags from designers so exclusive I’d never even heard of them.

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