Shop! Mary Portas at Zara Mary Portas wonders whether it's possible to be a great store without great service Rating 7/10 Good for fast fashion that feels like high fashion Bad for a service culture lacking in simple etiquette A few weeks ago I received a number of tweets in relation to the windows at Zara in Oxford Street, London. In the display, a number of moody mannequins were all sporting blunt red bobs in the style of a certain person you may know. It seems I'm in fashion. At any rate, it got me thinking about Zara, a retail giant so successful it makes the recession look like it never happened. In these uncertain times, any store posting profits as impressive as Zara's (its parent company saw a 32 per cent jump in first-half net profit this year) deserves a second look. The last time I reviewed Zara, I said that this was a store that knows how to make fast fashion seem like high fashion across the board, from its clothes to its windows. In its store layout and online environment, the codes of luxury are adhered to; so much so that Zara can make a £30 top look like it's worth £300 (from 10 paces away or even closer). But what Zara lacks, I've always felt, is any sense of service or shopping experience beyond providing a product in a shop, as impressive as that product might be. At the beginning of every season my partner, Melanie, and her colleagues at Grazia magazine would, using their insider fashion knowledge, buy key pieces from Zara's Covent Garden store. Melanie wore these pieces into the ground, and I have to admit to borrowing a few of them myself from time to time. To this day, Melanie insists that Zara does silk and chiffon better than anyone else on the high street, and trust me, she would know. So in a fit of curiosity I've decided to visit my window doppelgangers; perhaps they have a style trick or two to teach me. More importantly, I want to find out whether Zara has taken heed of my last review and upped its game on the service front, or whether it is still the Ikea of the retail world; self-service without a smile. Shopability For a brand that doesn't advertise, Zara knows that its windows are its calling card - and it shows. While I am disappointed to discover the mannequins are now channelling Donatella Versace (all straightened, bleach-blond, centre-parted hair), I am impressed by the chic bronze cubes the Donatellas are posing on, making the windows look like a piece of installation art. It's tempting enough to draw me inside, where the front half of the store is almost entirely dedicated to gothic black, the most wearable of the new autumn trends. It's a smart choice, probably provided by the computer algorithm that works out which sizes, colours and cuts sell best in each Zara store's locality and ensuring they are restocked with impressive efficiency. Am I being served? I hunt around for a cream, knee-length wool coat with quilted leather sleeves that I saw in a display some weeks ago. This fills me with trepidation because, based on previous experiences, Zara's shop assistants don't actually assist customers - they work the fitting-room, man the tills and replenish the stock, but they are not actually employed to help you. Eventually, and desperately, I plead with a security guard, who points me in the direction of a brusque Spanish woman at the door of the fitting-rooms. She looks at me as if my question is utterly ridiculous. She waves me off to a location downstairs - where, of course, the coat is nowhere to be seen. Eventually I find it, next to the fitting-rooms... Verdict Inditex, the company that owns Zara, is one of the great success stories of fast fashion - net sales rose 17 per cent to €7.2 billion during the first half of 2012. In Zara's case, Inditex invests its profits in window displays that could rival any designer store, and in-store graphics featuring images of the world's top models. What I struggle to comprehend is why service is deemed to be of so little importance - a good service culture can make a great business an even greater one. Staff don't appear to be schooled in even basic etiquette, and the stores are generally understaffed. If I want a faceless shopping experience I'll browse the internet. But that's not what I want when I go shopping: I want to touch and taste the outside world, and to interact with other human beings. I'd love to see this incredible business bring a little humanity to its offering. In keeping a beady eye on its profit margin, Zara seems to have forgotten that a smile doesn't cost a penny.