Designer Dublin

The perfect linear display of Chanel handbags stops me in my tracks. But should I really have been surprised? Just seconds before I’d been ogling diamonds, reflecting light like sunshine bouncing off the ocean. And now out of the corner of my eye, I can see a beauty salon offering facials infused with real gold. Diamonds, luxury handbags, high-end spa treatments...

So where am I lapping up all this luxe? London’s Bond Street? Paris’s Champs Élysées?

No. Believe it or not, I am standing on Dublin’s Grafton Street. It might be a typically grey, overcast Irish day filled with clingy misty rain and puddles, but this location is most definitely a fashion and beauty junkie’s paradise.

Yes, Dublin. A destination known to the world as being all about the ‘craic’ (meaning fun) – less so the indulgent retail therapy fix. And before my recent 48-hour sprint through Ireland’s fair city, I had no idea there is this side to it.

I had been to Dublin once before, back in 1998. I’d stood 10-deep in spectators lining the streets to watch a whirl of bicycle wheels race past, as a stage of the Tour de France was hosted by the city.

As the blur of jerseys filled every road from Trinity College university to O’Connell Street on the other side of the River Liffey, I remember peering over dozens of heads and clapping hands and decided there and then that in order to really ‘see’ this city, I needed to return on my own terms. And my terms are very much shopping, sightseeing and kicking back.

It’s a short taxi ride from the airport to the city centre and my hotel, for a reasonable €24.90 (Dh100). The slow-moving taxi journey gave me time to get my bearings and to appreciate the beauty of the Georgian architecture that makes up so much of this bustling, vibrant city.

There is only one address at which to stay in Dublin, and luckily for me it’s mine for the duration of my visit: 27 St Stephen’s Green, otherwise known as The Shelbourne Hotel. Comprising three substantial Georgian houses, The Shelbourne was opened in 1824, and is a place of historic interest in its own right.

It was at The Shelbourne, in May 1922, that the drafting of the Irish Constitution was carried out in what is now known as The Constitution Room. A small museum off the hotel’s grand chandelier-decked lobby pays homage to the building’s rich past, with its handwritten and bound guest registers and photographs of the who’s who of celebrity residents like Grace Kelly and John F Kennedy.

But this is no stuffy, old-fashioned, time warp though: my room is opulence itself, from its ridiculously enormous bed, to the Elemis-filled duplex bathroom and mega-spacious walk-in wardrobe.

I needed a very good reason to step out of this cocoon-like luxury on my first full day. But after a restful night’s sleep (coma-like in fact – there’s nothing like a sumptuous turned-down hotel bed to induce intense, blissful slumber) I’m ready for some pavement-pounding and credit card flexing.

Dublin is a fairly small city, and nothing is really out of walking distance. I have a vague plan – to window-shop the antiques stores in Francis Street (aka the antiques district), wander through the beautiful parkland of St Stephen’s Green, and indulge in afternoon tea.

Just a five-minute walk from my hotel are a plethora of decadent stores lined with luxe labels. Arnotts department store, the biggest in the city with a beautiful Victorian façade, has been serving Dublin’s well-heeled shoppers since 1843. It hosts an array of Irish designers amongst its concessions, with Paul Costelloe and Orla Kiely to name but two, along with upcoming home-grown talent such as local designer (you heard about her here first) Emma Manley’s thriving label Manley (www.manley.ie.) – just gorgeous.

The enormous Brown Thomas store, part of the same holdings company that owns Selfridges, boasts fantastic window displays, an amazing beauty hall and also houses well-known international designers like Marc Jacobs, Mary Katrantzou and Acne, not to mention a pedigree going back to 1849. There’s always something of the unknown about perusing a department store in a new city; a frisson of excitement and expectation runs through you as you never quite know what you might find when surrounded by a mix of familiar names and eclectic newbies.

But it’s outside Brown Thomas where I’m really dazzled; the Chanel bag display in its windows is truly a thing of beauty.

Grafton Street and Henry Street are certainly the city’s main shopping streets, but 5km outside of the city is Dundrum Town Centre (www.dundrum.ie), a vast mall opened in 2005 playing host to over a hundred international brands as well as Irish designer stores and general high-end retail heaven – and the only place in Ireland to get a Harvey Nichols and House of Fraser fix, FYI.

With my shopping appetite well and truly whetted, I’m delighted to discover the Powerscourt Centre, a stunningly beautiful Georgian town house on South William Street, packed with boutiques, eateries and beauty salons.

But a girl cannot just shop when on a city break, and fortunately, culture is never far from a visitor’s grasp in Dublin – even when immersed in a shopping centre.

The Powerscourt Centre has a history reaching back to 1774 when it was a private residence and home to Richard Wingfield, 3rd Viscount Powerscourt, and his wife, Lady Amelia, and guided tours of the building are available.

As something of a history and collectibles buff, I’m delighted to discover the Dolls Store Hospital and Museum, also within the Powerscourt Centre, packed with antique dolls and bears. A must-visit for any little – or not so little – girl!

The Writers’ Museum, and the birthplace of Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw are a must-see for first-time visitors. But as a returning guest, I want to walk around finding my own ‘must-see’ places with no maps or guides.

As I amble down through Merrion Square Gardens I can’t help but notice the slightly louche, reclining figure of playwright Oscar Wilde captured in stone, facing a flat-fronted Georgian terrace: 1 Merrion Square, now the American College in Dublin. It was the writer’s home from 1855 to 1876. The ornate glass conservatory on the side of the house was once the study of his aural and ophthalmic surgeon father, Sir William Robert Wills Wilde. However, the Wilde family home is certainly not the only property with famous connections – blue and brown plaques dot the city’s walls commemorating politicians, playwrights and wits.

On a fine day, nothing beats reading a book on a bench in St Stephen’s Green gardens, duck and people watching, while the scent of flowers carry on the breeze around you. It was once common ground for grazing animals and became a private garden for the home owners on St Stephen’s Street. In the Victorian era it became a public park, with a bandstand, pavilion, stone-bridge and a mock-Tudor groundsman’s lodge. It’s still drizzling, but I walk through it anyway and find the bust of James Joyce, and the statue of Lord Ardilaun who gave the park to the city.

After an hour of such wandering I find myself back on Grafton Street and (after passing Disney store touting Mickey Mouse doll in traditional Irish costume) outside Bewley’s Café – a venue associated with Dubliners such as Bob Geldof and Samuel Beckett.

The exterior is enchanting, and of another era, but the pièce de résistance is the six stained-glass windows especially commissioned for the café by its original owner, Ernest Bewley and constructed by Irish artist Harry Clarke. Bewley refurbished the premises in the 1920s in the style of the then-fashionable Venetian and Parisian coffee houses, but added his own Egyptian-inspired touches. In its day, the café was the hang-out for Dublin’s literary elite, with James Joyce even referencing it in his 1914 novel Dubliners, but these days it is simply the place to go for the best coffee in Dublin – as well as being Ireland’s only Carbon Neutral café.

Eating out in Dublin can be as diverse an experience as you want it to be. The Saddle Room restaurant on St Stephen’s Street provides unrivalled steak and seafood dishes from the kitchen of executive chef Garry Hughes. The vast – though cosy – eatery offers a world-class dining experience with the simple philosophy of using only the finest in locally sourced Irish ingredients. Tables are discreetly and thoughtfully placed, with booths and alcoves galore. And I can safely rate the oysters as the best I’ve ever tasted, and I was equally impressed by the attentive staff.

On my second day, I lunch in an eclectic little restaurant in the Temple Bar area – the cultural quarter of Dublin, on the south bank of the river Liffey. I stumble across The Shack on East Essex Street – billing itself as a purveyor of ‘Irish and European’ dishes – and strangely end up plumping for a Mexican enchilada and a frothy hot chocolate, which I enjoy while looking out on to cobbled streets and pondering on my whirlwind 48 hours in this fair city.

I’d drooled over designer handbags, eyed up antiques, enjoyed an eclectic mix of food, culture and history. “I am so glad I came back,” I say to myself. And hopefully, I won’t leave it another 15 years to return again.