Sunil Sethi: The home makeover market

AL FRESCO

"I don't believe what we've accomplished in a few hours," said the woman, leaning back in the car. "Amazing," echoed her incredulous husband. The couple were old friends who had recently returned to set up home in Delhi after more than twenty years of residence in the West. They asked for a quick tour of the local hardware shops, to help remodel and refurnish a small flat, spoiled by years of tenancies. The city of their origins seemed like a distinctly foreign place. Given the staggering selection on offer, it truly was.

There were ceramic floor tiles from Spain, sanitary ware from France and Thailand, and cooking stoves from Germany. Indian-made goods were introduced with impressive foreign credentials, made by "Indo-Italian" or "Indo-Korean" collaborations. Bathroom fittings came in a mind-boggling range of styles, finishes and prices, from the sleek brushed steel minimalism of Philippe Starck to Old English faucets and WCs with ornamental scalloped rims, appropriately labelled My Fair Lady. The kitchenware was something else""sold piecemeal or in fitted modular units, alluringly displayed in glossy catalogues, and ranging in price from a few thousand rupees to many, many lakhs.

Large segments of the city's retail marketplace have been carved up into specialised shopping plazas, devoted exclusively to home makeovers. If you're looking for new bathrooms, there is a whole market dedicated to them, with none of the noise, chaos and cramped showrooms traditionally associated with hardware shopping.

We were ushered into one air-conditioned emporium after another, each as calm and orderly as a museum interior. At the back of several sat young men and women at individual desks, sales staff who gave customers a practised once-over, for their possible preferences and budgets. These were design planners, the home makeover version of wedding planners. With the smiling, concentrated attention of call centre executives, they were like well-oiled robots propagating the culture of the Big O: Options, options. They produced catalogues, summoned assistants to exhibit models, and riffled through fat files containing price lists. "It's like going to the wedding list department at Bergdorf Goodman or Harrods," murmured my friend.

Done with bathrooms and kitchens""where you could have ordered a Roman bath with leaping dolphins picked out in mosaic or kitchen counters in Japanese cedar with lacquered sushi trays""we moved to another area of the city, a market known as the Temple of Lights. About fifty showrooms, cheek by jowl, and glowing with styles that ranged from Miami Art Deco to gold-plated Florentine baroque. The choice was so dazzling that no window shopper could hope to leave without an unwanted lamp or electrical fixture. "That is why we are all in one location," explained a Sikh shop-owner with satisfaction. "Every shop has to offer something different. There are new designs every week. And customers can compare prices." It is shrewd, well-reasoned sales strategy. The competition next door keeps you on your toes and, like safety, there is profit in numbers.

We had started early, around shop-opening time, and a few hours later, had looked into at least three dozen showrooms in three markets. At no time, I noticed, was there a single shop without customers on a Saturday morning. Many were chock-a-block with shoppers, home-owners of every age-group mixing and matching tiles, building contractors ordering glass shower stalls and Jacuzzis by the dozen, and plumbers and masons streaming in and out at all hours.

My friends were thrilled and remarked how different such an expedition would have been in the West. "So much more friendly, attentive and personal here. No mail order or online shopping. Home deliveries by the end of the day. Better bargains too," they exclaimed when we repaired for lunch.

The next day I rang a couple of architect friends to ask what, in their opinion, the estimated worth of the home makeover market in India was. "Anybody's guess," said one. "It's at least as high or huge as the thousands of skyscrapers sprouting all around you."