Monday, January 07, 2008

Expat Gals in Hong Kong

One of my highlights of 2007 was a three-day shopping trip to Hong Kong with five other ladies: Kris, Dawn, Karen, Ana and Kim. All of us are moms, and all of us needed a trip during which we were not enforcing curfews or bedtimes, not cutting up anyone else's food, and not visiting sites marked "family friendly" in the guidebook. We were ready for the essentials of a good Girls' Weekend--Shopping, Dining, Pampering, and More Shopping--and we wanted to go somewhere that most of had visited before (albeit while wearing our "Mommy" badges) but had never really gotten to explore from an urban expat gal's point of view. Hong Kong was the perfect fit.

Departure time
Once we'd picked a date and bribed the husbands into spending three days with the kids, brave soul Ana worked with a local Taiwanese travel agent so that we could get a decent deal on hotel and flight. There were quite a few rounds of Itinerary Hokey-Pokey while we shopped rates and times (bless you, Ana!). In the end we nailed down the Sheraton and a reasonable rate with EVA Airways since we were all Taiwan residents. We were actually designated as a Taiwanese tour group with special check-in service at the airport. We got a few stares and some sympathetic help at the ticket counter since a) only one of our group could even pass as Taiwanese, b) we didn't have a tour guide to help us figure out where to go in the airport, and c) heaven help us, we didn't bring a multi-colored flag to hoist and follow, marking us as a guided tour. We did end up buying funny matching t-shirts, but nope, no flag. Of course we didn't actually need a flag since two of the gals, Kris and Kim, are 5'10" blondes. We just followed them through the sea of small, dark-haired folk. Kim was recovering from a series of hair coloring mishaps--a common occurrence for blondes living in Asia--and boasted a particularly brilliant sunshine-y hue that made our group the toast of Taoyuan International Airport.

A side note to any gals looking at life overseas: if you are or plan to be any hair color other than black, brown, auburn, or purple, you should NOT ONLY bring your own color with you from home, but you should have your hometown hairdresser check it and swear on her life that is actually the right shade. In the weeks leading up to our trip, Kim nobley survived being a brunette, a red-head (twice), and a truly shocking, crispy-fried-bleached-white-blonde along the road to her current golden locks (which I must say, suit her quite nicely).

For me, no girls’ weekend can properly begin without a visit to Starbucks, so once we'd checked our bags, we headed to that heavenly latte spot on the upper level of the terminal. For my travelling buddies, though, no girls’ weekend can properly begin without some kind of shopping. So before we even got to Hong Kong, there was shopping at the Taipei airport gift store followed by duty-free shopping on the airplane. During the ninety-minute flight, we also passed around
Born to Shop: Hong Kong, a must-have expat gal’s guide by Suzy Gershman that’s organized both by city area and by item (jewelry, electronics, shoes, etc.). Yes, we were about to take the city by storm and couldn’t wait to touch down and begin our adventure.

The Purse Mavens of Monkok
Though we had a great time visiting various stores, malls and markets during our trip, it was our first several hours in Hong Kong that were the shopping pinnacle of our weekend. As soon as we could get from the airport to our hotel, we dropped our bags as quickly as possible and then ran, not walked, to the cab stand to get taxis to Monkok Ladies Market, or as I now call it, Ana’s Land of Copy Bags. This three block stretch of alleyway was crammed with stalls featuring cheap watches, trinkets, toys, belts, watches, t-shirts, and most of all, knock-off versions of luxury brand purses (though few of these are openly displayed).

“Hey missy, copy bag,” chanted the hawkers, eager to shuffle us to the back of the stall and shove catalogues in our hands to see what might tempt us. Were we Gucci girls? Coach fans? If we took the bait, there were cell phone conversations and the arrival of a black trash bag with the selected items. Seemed simple enough, but as I was to discover, this was only round one of purse acquisition. A few ladies bought bags at a few stalls, and we continued to wander down the road, stopping to look at belts, watches (“Hey missy, copy watch.”), cashmere wraps, and Chinese silk outfits.

About an hour into our exploring, I noticed that my friend Ana had a strange gleam in her eye. She had been slow to buy purses at the main stalls, sure she could do better on quality and price. “I’m a girl looking for a deal,” she said, shaking her dark pony-tail, and so far, she hadn’t found it. Later, I was to learn from her husband that her powers of haggling are legendary: here was a woman who, with pit-bull tenacity, could convince sellers to lower their lowest price and then to accept other kinds of currency when she ran short. So she was still seeking the holy grail of copy purse inventory, the stash of A++ quality copies being sold by someone ready to negotiate.

Half-way down the market street, we opted to break into pairs with some time/place instructions for meeting up later—instructions that went completely out the window when Ana began to get her good deals. I began to get a little concerned around 6pm when Ana and Karen seemed to have disappeared from Monkok Market. Fortunately, Ana and I had the only working phones in the bunch and after several tries to reach her, I finally got Ana to respond in a hushed voice, “I’m in the middle of a transaction…I will come out in a moment.” Come out? Where was she? And WHAT was she buying??? I was now about to be initiated into Level Two of purse buying – the back room. Just as Ana and Karen suddenly appeared *poof* like magic back with the group, each carrying new bags purchased from someone named May, our group was approached by one of the sellers who said, “Hey missies, BETTER copy bags, not far.”

No siren’s song could have been stronger. Ana, fresh from her own back room buying experience, and Kris, who had a mental Christmas gift list at least two feet long, immediately set off to follow with the rest of us in tow. Through a door, up stairs, along a hall, (with nervous me memorizing landmarks like “mop bucket and mop on the left,” “Halloween poster on a door to the right,” “flickering fluorescent bulb”, and checking my cell service constantly), we wound our way to what looked like a run-down apartment. Inside, it actually was a run-down apartment but with no furniture other than a long table and shelves upon shelves of bags and wallets. And on a three-legged wooden stool, sat a gaunt, weathered man going by the name “King.”

Shoving a cigarette behind one ear and pulling a calculator from his back pocket, King began to answer the barrage of questions from our group as we pulled bag after bag from the shelves to check zipper and buckle quality, sniff for that “leather scent” and examine the labels for misspelled brand names. Bags under consideration were piled onto the central table while those of us who were new to the game asked about price and whether he had the same bag in other colors. But the seasoned buyers, notably Ana, were asking, “But what is your BEST price?” “Were these bags made in China or Korea?” “Where are the A++ bags?” No matter what price King quoted, the purse mavens would counter with other offers or raise a doubting eyebrow about the quality.

At one point, Karen—Ana’s original back room shopping buddy—pointed to Ana and said, “This woman has five kids to feed. She needs a better price.” This line seemed to work so well, it became a standard bargaining tool over the weekend. So much so that Ana herself later had to stop and think about how many kids she actually did have. (She has three.) At another point in the haggling, King brandished his lighter and held a purse to the flame to prove that it was indeed leather, not synthetic. (For the rest of the trip, Ana wanted to light purses on fire to check the quality. We wouldn’t let her near matches, candles or lighters after that.) By the end of the bargaining, the pile of purses on the table had grown quite large since the gals had decided to buy in bulk for the best price leverage. A bewildered, middle-aged Brit, hoping to find something for his wife, stumbled into the room, took one look at the raucous, purse-crazed females circling their prey, cursed and said, “Where AM I?”

There would be other back room forays that evening, but nothing would match the adrenaline-laced, primal purse hunting of our visit with King. Ana and Karen attempted to find their original purse connection, May, so the rest of us could see her stock. Walking through the crowds, forlornly yelling, “May? May?” they actually conjured up one enterprising young seller who said, “I know May! I take you!” The woman running THAT back room was not May and kept shaking her head “No” even while the hawker continued to insist that she was the May they were looking for. While the group applauded itself on being able to tell Fake May from the real May, they were not so successful at remembering landmark details. Remember my mental notes on the way to King’s? Two more times the girls let themselves be led by different guides past the same mop bucket and mop, Halloween poster and flickering fluorescent bulb, only to be surprised to find they were back at King’s place. No surprise that King wouldn’t let us back in!

We finished the evening at Monkok Ladies Market carb-loading at California Pizza Kitchen and planning for the next two days. Not much of an extreme shopper, I was ready for some pampering at the spa (I had a fantastic facial), some fine dining at Felix in the renown Peninsula Hotel, several more lattes, and some tame department-store browsing. But I will never see or hear a price anywhere again without wanting to ask, “But what’s your BEST deal?” And I will never see another luxury purse without wondering whether it came from King’s copy stash or not.

Thanks to my dear friends for an incredible trip, and I hope those purses are still holding up!!