Milan isn't Paris. At times it doesn't even feel like Italy. There's a sense of the Germanic to it, as a walk around the sprawling Parco Sempione on a Sunday afternoon will attest. Men in forest-green loden coats and Bavarian-style hats with feathers. Serious women in big fur coats. Unsmiling children.
Warm up your shopping muscles with a visit to the Quadrilatero, the golden rectangle, just north of the Duomo, as the four big-bucks shopping streets (Via Montenapoleone, Via della Spiga, Via Manzoni and Via Sant'Andrea) are collectively called. Status designers from Armani to Zegna, from brothers Rossetti to sisters Fendi, have their flagship stores here; they are scattered between small galleries, antique dealers and fancy cafés with chandeliers, where matrons in mink (it's politically incorrect not to wear fur here) down a quick espresso standing at the counter, before reporting for retail battle.
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