In 1954, Victor Gruen, once a refugee from Nazi-occupied Austria, stuck a roof over a parade of shops in suburban Minneapolis, and the modern mall was born. Ironic that it was actually a European who was the architect of what has become one of the great symbols of American consumerism and cultural imperialism. The mall is roundly despised for its heavy-handed dominance and is derided for the stereotype breed of “mall rat” it has spawned.

The trouble is that the mall is hated for what it represents and not for what it is. Actually, it’s an awesome piece of life-enhancing engineering. All the shops you want are brought together within walking distance of one another under one climate-controlling roof. Add plentiful food and entertainment and what is there to moan about? I find it particularly perplexing when women complain about malls. After all, the mall is the architectural equivalent of a handbag: a little bit of everything packed together in one handy, manageable place.

The current focus of displeasure is Europe’s largest city-centre mall, Westfield, which is set to open its doors in Shepherd’s Bush next month. It has cost £1.7 billion to develop a 40-acre site to create a retail space covering 1.6m sq ft. It will house 270 stores restaurants and a 14-screen cinema, and provide up to 7,000 jobs. It is estimated that it will also generate £1 billion in further investments in the area. And yet people complain. The focus of the attack is that the mall might change the unique flavour of the area. That’s exactly the point. If you read one of Charles Dickens’s more bleak descriptions of 19th-century slums, you could be mistaken for thinking he was describing 21st-century Shepherd’s Bush, an area known only for appalling traffic, one of the roughest housing estates in London and the police station where they keep terror suspects. Before Westfield moved in, the last people who turned their attention to the urban planning of the area were wearing Iron Crosses and sitting in the cockpits of Heinkel bombers.

People complain that malls are new and foreign. But there’s nothing new about malls. What were the bazaars and medinas of the ancient Middle East? Malls. What are those stately grandes dames of British retail, Harrods, Liberty and Harvey Nichols, if not glorified malls? And before someone turned Heathrow into a mall, it was a purgatory where you were forced to “do time” until your flight was called.

People also whinge that Westfield will put local retailers out of business. The commercial contents of Shepherd’s Bush roundabout consists of fast-food shops and pawnbrokers. The former get 90% of their custom after pub-closing time, when the mall will be shut. And the latter are unlikely to be competing for the same clientele as De Beers or Tiffany, the highlights of Westfield’s new luxury quarter.

Malls have already proved themselves to be directly responsible for impressive urban regeneration in Derby, Manchester and Sheffield. And Highcross, a huge retail development that has recently opened in Leicester will do the same there. Westfield has also invested £170m in public transport and urban improvements for local areas of Shepherd’s Bush, including the first new Tube station to be built on an existing line in more than 70 years.

Mall builders, however, are not altruists. You will notice that malls don’t run in long, straight lines. They have corners and bends. That is because people get discouraged from walking if they see their destination is more than one-tenth of a mile away. As long as you can’t actually see that your destination is far away, you will keep going. You’ll notice that the natural flow of traffic will steer you unknowingly past a maximum number of shop fronts. And the railings running around the upper floors are low enough for you to see what shops are on the floors above. And just try to find your way out — they make that deliberately confusing.

The problem I have with malls is not the malls themselves, but the people inside them. I visited the largest mall in America, aptly named the Mall of America, outside Minneapolis. A better name might have been the Maul of America. Despite being a monumental 2.5m sq ft, with an atrium large enough to house an indoor rollercoaster, it was utterly claustrophobic, packed with people milling and dawdling like wildebeests. Or is it possible that there was a reasonable number of people, but they were so morbidly obese that it simply felt packed?

When I spoke to the PR lady at Westfield, I was slightly disheartened by her message of welcome. She insisted that local people would “have a sense of ownership” over the mall. According to her, it will be a haven, not just for shoppers, but for local people to relax in and pass the time of day, have a meal, watch a movie. I asked if they couldn’t employ security guards to keep those people out. She laughed and thought I was joking. I suppose having an accessible mall will make the streets safer, in that hooded youths will have an alternative place to loiter and addicts will have bathrooms in which to shoot up.

For all its obvious benefits, the mall will always suffer from one endemic problem: no matter how hard it tries, you can’t get away from the fact that the mall is the fake boob of shopping. It looks great and appears to be everything one could want, but it’s just not natural — a little too perfect. And for some reason, that bothers people.

Going undercover

Inevitably, the biggest draw to the Westfield mall will be The Village, packed with labels from Prada to Louis Vuitton. So you can pop in for a designer pick-me-up, minus the calf burn. Take advantage of the “hands-free” shopping service provided by the 70-strong concierge team (only proles carry their own bags) and choose between a fabulous Tiffany cocktail ring (from £545) or a pair of silk heels from Dior (£460).

Westfield is the pioneer of the luxury-brand mall in the UK (but don’t forget, mall rats can pick up a burger, £9, from Gourmet Burger Kitchen, or a pair of Puma trainers, £80, under the same roof), but you don’t need to travel to London to sample the new mall chic.

Liverpool One (open, but scheduled for completion by October) is a sprawling 42-acre paradise in the heart of the city. Within six districts, 160 high-street stores sit alongside boutiques, cafes, restaurants, a cinema and a park. Two hotels and 600 apartments form part of the same development. Presumably, so you can live to shop too.

Bristol’s Cabot Circus opens on September 25 after almost 10 years under construction. It will include 120 shops, notably a Harvey Nichols boutique (where you can pick up a tin of Baci di Dama treats, £10), as well as a Raymond Blanc, in the form of Brasserie Blanc. There are also more than 200 new homes and a 13-screen Cinema de Lux.

At the recently opened Highcross centre in Leicester, there are more than 100 shops, including a three-storey John Lewis, Lacoste (polo shirts, £33) and Hugo Boss (shoe-boots, £359), eateries and the city’s first multiplex cinema. The £350m redevelopment is the largest complex in the East Midlands, the same size as Birmingham’s Bullring. Never has it been truer that we are a nation of shopkeepers.

Katherine Ormerod

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