ABSTRACT
Chuff-chuff, pooh-pooh. Look, Mom! There goes the Colorado & Southern, chugging on miniature tracks the fulllength of the cold-food cabinets, clanking between clucking hens (push a button to hear Henrietta sing) and goosie goosie ganders. Here is a windmill that turns, a farmer who fishes and '" and a bank of spanking new self-scanners. Selfscanners? Here, by good old Charlie's Farm? You bet. Simply tot up your total as you shop, and pay the machine as you leave. It's a new shopping experience. Ein neues Einkaufserlebnis '"
I step outside the store and walk up on the street, all without once leaving the shelter of 'indoors'. But why am I explaining this? We have all used a shopping centre. We all know our way around the mall by now. The Crystal Palace roof and potted palms; the brushed, stainless steel Zs of perpetual escalators; the marble pools with fat, vermilion fish; the smoked-glass lifts with exposed working parts. Malls are uso
Though not all ofus, as it turns out. Surprisingly, given the high status enjoyed by their own consumer goods, by their Brauns and Bosches and BMWs, the Germans are the new kids in the shopping arcade. CentrO, on the fringe of Oberhausen, in the pounding, heavy heart of the world 's most celebrated industrial conurbation, is the very first US-style megamall in Germany. They've hit the ground running,of course - gone straight for the number-one slot with a cathedral to consumption that's bigger than any other mall in Europe. But before you say, 'Typical Germans! ' there's something you ought to know. CentrO was made in England.
