A good yarn...

Dongjiadu is a three-floor building near Nanpu Bridge, in the west of Shanghai. A sign on the door - which is largely ignored - asks visitors to abstain from smoking inside so as to avoid a disaster should thousands of metres of fabric incinerate. It's English name - ironically more difficult to remember and trickier to pronounce than the Chinese name - is The South Bund Soft Spinning Silk and Textile Market. We call it, 'The Cloth Market.'

Outside, a few hopefuls hawk their wares on mats lining the roads; an eclectic jumble of cheap jewellery, packs of cards and faux antique figurines. Men with little white caps - members of Muslim Chinese minority groups - sell dried fruits and nuts from side carts clinging to their rusty bikes. Across the street, Westerners sip coffee in the T-Café as they share tales of new clothes and good bargains.

But it is inside that the real action is taking place. Dongjiadu contains around 400 fabric and clothing stalls, all competing with each other to snag the next customer. Waiguoren wander the aisles, getting lost in the maze of stalls and disorientated by the endless reels of textiles on offer. You can buy off the rack, choosing one of the pre-made pieces of clothing hanging off the mannequin models, or - more commonly - let the small Chinese lady attempt to wrap her tape around your girth , take down your measurements, marvel and tsk at your enormous size, and finally return a few days later to retrieve your made-to-measure outfits. .

With thousands of items of clothing on display, its one of those places that makes you think, 'Hmm…maybe I really would look good in a pair of tight, bright red Chinese silk pants with dragons and flowers embroidered down the sides…I might get some made". The entrepreneuring stall holders only fuel your desire, proffering everything from suits to socks as they call from their stalls;

"Beautiful jackets in here, Miss!'

"Sir, you want suit? We make you good suit, very nice."

"Chinese silk scarf, for you Miss!"

"Come in, just looking, okay, we have scarf for you, jackets, suit, coat, tie, pants, gloves, skirt, …."

The invitations, however, were a waste of breath when directed towards me. I was a woman with a one-track mind as I marched past stall after stall. I knew exactly what it was I wanted. Clutched in my hand was an oft-folded picture I had printed off the internet back home, and in my mind I was conjuring up secret images which I could not reveal to Fletch. My mission? Getting me a wedding dress.

After scanning all 3 floors to find the one who would be offered the privilege of being my personal tailor, I decided to hedge my bets and contracted two different stalls, arranging for a different designed dress to be made at each. Shop 302 promised me they could recreate the dress on the picture that I had brought from home, and Shop 361 convinced me to get one made from a magazine they had in store. So, whilst Fletch was away organising some shirts and pants to get made for himself, I was busy bargaining for a price and getting measured from top to toe

It is really lots of fun to get measured by a personal dressmaker, and it is also quite easy to forget that lots of small details can be lost in translation when an Australian girl is dealing with a Chinese lady. Alarm bells should have started ringing when Shopkeeper 302 had finally finished measuring me up. "Wedding dress - very special" I had repeated to her, subconsciously imploring her to do a good job I had already gone through my essential requirements with her several times - white dress, not puffy, no sequins, beach wedding, etc. I thought our understanding was mutual.. She smiled back at me. "Okay, wedding dress, very good. Now, what colour? Red?"

Shopkeeper 361 was a young, smiling woman who was heavily pregnant and, in hindsight, I think she had a serious case of baby brain . I was drawn to her stall by her big belly and big smile - she was so friendly and enthusiastic about making my wedding dress, I felt I couldn't let her down. After flicking through page after page of dresses in the magazine she had, we decided on one and I - stupidly - verbally requested a few small changes to be made to the original design. After lots of nodding and smiling, for the second time that day I mistakenly believed we were each on the same wavelength, and left the tailors to weave their magic. I found Fletch sitting patiently waiting for his bride-to-be on a flight of stairs between levels 2 and 3, gave him an enigmatic smile and left The Cloth Market with my hopes in the sky.

However, it wasn't meant to be. Two more subway trips out to Dongjiadu - one for a second fitting and one to pick up - and I am now the proud owner of a sequinned potato sack, and a cupcake-like fairy godmother dress.

I am convinced that 361 made me an entirely different dress to the one we picked out in the magazine - the straight sections of the dress were okay, but evidently the sewing machine couldn't turn corners. Then, against the rules, they went and put sequins all over it. Lesson number one: do not get a wedding dress made by a shop with embroidered tablecloths as their headliine product, however pregnant the shopkeeper may be.

Shop 302 - while slightly closer to the mark, presented me proudly with a cupcake dress and then admonished me when I dared tug slightly on the skirt to ease the puff. I almost asked if they could make me a wand to complete my dress up outfit. Lesson number two: do not allow the shopkeeper to convince you that 'just a little bit' of tulle under your dress would look "very beautiful".

Fletch, of course, was considerably more successful - his 3 new shirts and pair of pants fit perfectly and look very smart. Lesson number three: Fletch had the right idea - give them something to copy, and they can't go wrrong!

But even with the disastrous dresses, our experience at the South Bund Soft Spinning and Textile Market was lots of fun, and it was certainly worth a try! In reality, its not all bad - we are now on our way to Beijing, where the temperature is dipping well below zero degrees. I'm going to need as many layers as I can get - and my sequinned potato sack and fairy godmother dress might just come in handy after all!