In the UK and in Italy, designer shopping villages are a dime a dozen. Every major motorway has some kind of mega mall sprouting out of it like a nasty mushroom. Most of these outlet villages do not stock designer items at all. Whenever I see their lists, I always remember that precious moment in Britain’s Next Top Model when, asked who her favourite designer was, one of the wannabes answered ‘Karen Millen’. The judges patiently, and while looking down their considerable noses, explained that Ms. Millen was not a designer or a human being, but a high-end high street chain.

Now I’m all for that, seeing as Banana Republic (The GAP’s adult arm) is my first stop in London (their office-appropriate clothing and accessories are quite lovely) but when I am going to spend an entire day wielding the plastic, I want to come back with some seriously long-term investments. The Mantova Fashion District was practically on our rat run out of the wonderful Il Rigoletto but their list of shops simply did not interest me. To me, they are a bunch of high street chains, marked down. The experience and type of customer in the shops matches that. When we drove by it and I noticed the massive Clarks sign outside, I realised we had made the right decision not to stop. There is nothing wrong with Clarks, but Ferragamo their shoes ain’t.

Which is why the Fidenza Shopping Village was so entirely fabulous. It is managed by the same company as Bicester Village in the UK and their list is absolutely, for want of a better, less Americanised, word, awesome. First of all, it is small and manageable. The Dubai-like architecture is not so hot, but once inside you will realise how very do-able it is. We split it into left and right and covered all the shops in seven hours.

Almost first on the right is Furla. For many people, Furla is about bags, but here they stock the entire range, and hey, it’s this season. So this season in fact that I was wondering what on earth the local shop is stocking. I went in, bought two belts, walked around, popped in halfway through the day and bought a bag, then just before leaving I added a pair of flat sandals in lace and lacquer as the final cherry on the shopping cake.

Further on in Valentino I went almost equally nuts. Most of the frocks are retailing at prices from €500 to €1000. My mother will read this and faint. Nonetheless, that is a markdown of more than 50%. If you are lucky enough, you will find the one-off in your size which will be the only one remaining, and therefore even cheaper. Possibly that is why I ended up with a pair of shoes and a gold lace vest at princely sums of around €80 each. For Valentino, I could have fished them out of a skip that is so cheap.

The place where I really lost it was Marni. I found out from the salesgirl that the shop had opened just the day before we visited. For all fashionistas of a certain age, mainly those who like to dress it, rather than pretend they’re still 18, Marni is the holy grail: chic, quirky and in decent sizes. Their accessories are absolutely wonderful (think Africa: think chunky and clunky in browns and burnt ochre), their offbeat clothing divine yet extremely chic. It is one of those brands which is only recognisable by those in the know and they use quality fabrics. I was on such good terms with the salesgirl by the time I added the fifth item of clothing to my list that she was giving me further discounts to entice me to buy a bag. I didn’t. Somewhere halfway through, I realised that the clothing was on 75% discount (again, that’s for this season, and no, I don’t know how they do it either) and I added some more. The writer sat on the comfortable couch and played games on the iPod. That little machine was the best present I ever gave him.

This is not to say that there wasn’t anything for him. In fact there are a lot of very chic men’s shops, including tailors, which stop short of being Tom Ford. A Brooks Brothers jacket was marked down from €500 to €50. ‘Hmmm…what do I wear it with’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Who cares?’ I interjected ‘At that price, you could wear it with hot pants and you’d still look fabulous’. The fit was divine. He added it to his ever-increasing carrier bags.

There is Armani, Cavalli and a stupendous selection, including beachwear, at Missoni. In each shop the experience is one of quality shopping, rather than bargain basement. This is because the shops are really nicely laid out, there is no feeling of mess or smell of what I call 'China shoe plastic' and the sales staff are very helpful and courteous. We stopped for lunch at Obika’ which is an overpriced chain of supposedly upmarket mozzarella shops. There were only three types of mozzarella on the menu and many permutations thereof in pasta and piadini. Moreover some of the staff are rude and one jumped down my throat for taking photos of the dishes. I wanted to laugh out loud and ask one of them if he was about to rip my memory card out and eat it or ask him if his zealousness would get him promoted. Just in case anybody out there wants to imitate their ‘design’, I had a pile of prosciutto crudo with a little bowl of crema on the side. Malta may be a police state, but last I looked, Italy wasn’t.

Go early because that is when it is quiet and parking not an awful nightmare. We were there until seven and somehow half of Reggio Emilia seemed to wake up at 3pm and descend upon the place. They turned Calvin Klein (there are Collection, Jeans and Underwear shops] into a monti which put TW off trying anything (who on earth wants to line up for a changing room?) but I still managed to find a pair of jeans for €10. I think it was around this time that the Versace shop brought in security and made people wait outside in a queue. The customers had become as enthusiastic (and almost as violent) as the Maltese are with a Lidl barbeque set.

Even if you go in summer, do not decline going into the Wolford shop. They make amazing tights and the sexiest stockings, mostly marked down from €25 to €15. For tights, that may seem expensive, but I have had mine for years and frankly at this point, everything else I try feels and looks like cheap tat. There are a lot of underwear outlets including La Perla, but the Italians still have not cottoned on to small back sizes and large cup sizes so if you wear that, don’t bother.

We spent all day at Fidenza and even though when I came back and realised how much the financial damage was I almost fainted (this happens every time – I should be used to it by now) both myself and TW are literally set up, at least sartorially, for all of this summer and some of next winter.

Some practical tips:

Ideally, you get to Fidenza by car. We rented ours from Sixt, picking it up from Verona airport. They had similar prices to most suppliers but if you are a permanent Fly Pass  (Air Malta frequent flyer) cardholder you get a 25% discount. Do not forget your license. I found Charlene in the Malta office to be extremely helpful and she really did try to get us the requested Fiat 500. The fact that we ended up with a rattling (albeit new) Toyota Aygo (the red may have been Ferrari but that is where the comparisons stopped) which felt as if it was going to fly off the road every time a camion drove past us has nothing to do with her. The huge advantage of the Aygo was that in three days of non-stop driving, motorway and city, we spent the princely sum of €40 on petrol. And of course, it is so small you can park it in a toilet which I suppose is difficult in a Ferrari.

Otherwise, there is a shuttle service from the nearest train station. Check their website for details.

Fly to Verona or Bologna with Air Malta. Flights are cheap and both airports are close. Although Verona is just an hour away on the comfortable and scenic Brennero motorway. flights to there are only available in July and August. If you are taking a Tom Tom or similar GPS device, please note that a little before you get to Fidenza, it will go nuts and start trying to push you into committing suicide by going the wrong way. Switch it off and follow the signs from the motorway: they are accurate and frequent.

Stay at Locanda Il Rigoletto, the most beautiful little restaurant-with-rooms in the area. Fulvia Salvarani, the owner, will take good care of you. Gianni d’Amato, her husband and the chef, makes stupendously divine food which is practically unmissable. They have parking in the back and an alternative (and cheaper) guest house on the side. Just before you get to Reggiolo, which is where Il Rigoletto is, once off the motorway, the Tom Tom goes equally berserk and tries to push you into a little tunnel. Ignore it and follow the signs. And if you are a man reading this and the designated driver, please obey your wife when she says that driving into a pile of bricks is not such a good idea when the sign is pointing the other way.