A Street-wise Stroll Into Luxury in Dusseldorf

The Konigsallee of Dusseldorf is a shopper’s wild mutant of Regent Street in London, the Rue Royal of Paris, New York’s Fifth Avenue and Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.

The Ko, as it is affectionately called, actually runs only slightly more than half a mile north and south, just a few blocks east of the Town Hall, but it is to this blue-chip city what a flamboyant silk tie is to a somber gray business suit.

Wearing blinders, you can stroll the gilt-edged boulevard from one end to the other in 15 easy minutes. Otherwise, you could make a career out of shopping the Ko. More than 250 creme de la creme shops and restaurants, including five shopping centers, line the short street like five pounds of chocolates crammed into a three-pound box.

Most of the shops are on the east side of the street, the stroll-and-spend side. The west side, once a military barracks, is now a phalanx of solid-looking German banks--the bottom line side of the street. Between them runs a moat, a dead-end branch of the Dussel River, spanned by three picturesque old bridges.

On the afternoon, last winter, of my fatal Bahnstrasse bridge crossing, it was inhabited only by a dark, thin man playing a violin. He was obviously an immigrant from Mediterranean Europe or Turkey. He had a scarf neatly laid out on the pavement, with a few coins scattered on the wool field. His face was sad and expectant as he played lilting airs from a sunnier clime. Like a scolding conscience, he was mostly ignored by the crowds of shoppers.

It’s hard to know the best time to go to the Ko. Does one go in the spring, when the chestnut trees leaning over the moat are in new green leaf and ladies in the latest Paris fashions are out walking portly dachshunds? Or perhaps in summer, when the restaurants overflow into sidewalk cafes in the shade of the full chestnuts and you can sip a chilled Rhine wine and watch everyone who’s anyone in the world stroll by with a crisp new shopping bag? Maybe the best time is autumn, when the leaves of those thick chestnut trees turn to gold and scatter their riches on the sidewalk, where they lie unnoticed, upstaged by windows brimming with riches.

For my money, the best time is a sunny day in winter--clear and crisp, good walking weather, ideal shopping conditions. In winter, the Ko is stripped of all those chairs, tables and gawkers, the trees are skeletal and you can get right down to the nitty-gritty of shopping, without any pretense. Besides, in winter the women are swathed in mink and sable, sumptuous white beaver, even ermine--and I spotted one brazen old leopard jacket. Fifth Avenue no longer has that kind of cachet, and Rodeo Drive, for all its mega-carat baubles, is too hot for fur, both climatically and philosophically.

In the window of Hans Munstermann, I saw 20 little silver angels. Rene Kern Jewelers had a Rolex watch for $3,390. Just for decoration, sort of like confetti, they displayed a dish of rubies and a dish of emeralds. And there were platinum hoop earrings with sapphire and diamond stars for a tad over $15,000.

I lusted after a Kelly-green coat with black mink collar and cuffs in the Gucci window. Down the street a bit, I found a magnificent gold brocade blazer. I couldn’t take my eyes off the odd and utterly alluring classic lines executed in the incredibly opulent fabric. It drew me right into Lange. With a matching skirt, the brocade ensemble was $1,700. Lange carried a whole line of clothes that could have been Chanel, the styling was so refined, but it was Chanel on a binge with rhinestones and lace. It was my favorite store.

Harpo displayed sleek, kitten-soft knits, including a pink cashmere coat. Janina Mackowski was haute couture , while Sarlette Ursula went trendy with velvet cling pants. Irma Mahnel has turned her considerable talents to outfitting the larger wealthy woman. Her elegant fashions run up to size 52.

Parfumerie Douglas has three locations on the Ko, all of which carry a line of “cosmetics for emancipated men.” If you’re tired of shopping, they touch up your makeup and send you back to the streets with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. At Alex Bender, they only look backwards. The gallery carries old manuscripts, rare books and ancient objects. What they don’t have, they promise to obtain.

Germany’s top designers--Guida Boehler, Toni Gard, Jil Sander, Beatrice Hymphendahl and young Uta Raasch--all have showrooms on the Ko. Horhager-Laimbock carries names such as Giorgio Armani, G.F. Ferre, Gianni Versace and Krizaa. The store’s huge lingerie department may be the finest on the planet.

The fashion street regulars all inhabit the Ko, too: Guy Laroche, Valentino, Chanel, Gucci, Cartier, Van Cleef & Arpels. There are stores full of bed linen, others lined with the most elegant shoes in the world, with matching handbags and hose. There are sports boutiques, perfume shops, home furnishings stores, art galleries and more than three dozen restaurants, several with Michelin stars and Gault Millau toques. Rumor has it that more champagne is popped on the Ko than any place else in Germany.

I ducked into Heinemann’s in the Ko Center for a nice vegetarian lunch with leeks and potatoes, followed by an unhealthy but wonderful strudel laced with gobs of heavy cream. Heinemann’s is what might be called a cloth coat kind of restaurant, the type favored by working daughters taking their mothers on a Saturday outing.

On another occasion, I chose La Terrazza with wicker chairs and a light Italian menu. In summer, the second-floor wide windows open right above the street. This restaurant is also in the Ko Center.

The best-known shopping center on the street is the Ko Galerie, housing more than 100 specialty shops on three glass, marble and metal levels. The architecture is stunning. There are palm trees by the stairwell, the sound of piano music swirling up to the tall glass dome, and the almost-forgotten smell of fine tobacco from several tobacco kiosks. There’s a high-tech fitness center and, on the roof, a computerized golf course. It is a temple to consumerism, the Crystal Cathedral of commerce.

In all, more than half a billion dollars were dropped along the Ko last year.

The glamorous street prospers because gray-flannel Dusseldorf, considerably smaller than Berlin, Hamburg or Munich, is the brains of Germany’s brawny Ruhr industrial complex and headquarters for some of the country’s largest corporations. Also, more than 300 Japanese companies have settled on Dusseldorf as a base for their German and European operations. The city once known as “Little Paris,” during the years of Napoleon’s occupation, from 1795 to 1801, is now called “Little Tokyo” and has the largest Japanese population in the country.

In spite of its commercialism, the Ko is a genuinely pretty street, perhaps one of the most elegant in Europe. Its trees, bridges and both its modern and vintage architecture are reflected in the still waters of the moat. There is a park at either end and some magnificent neo-baroque sculptures and art nouveau street lamps in between. The city’s two grandest hotels, the Breidenbacher Hof and the Steigenberger Park, add the grace notes.

The Ko wasn’t always so haute , and neither was its name, Konigsallee, King’s Street. The place was once a fort in the sticks on the eastern fringes of old Dusseldorf. It was the French who destroyed the fortification and who issued a “beauty decree” extending the city parks to the moat. The avenue lining the moat was called Kastanienallee, Chestnut Street, after the young trees along the water’s edge.

It acquired the name Konigsallee following a rather piquant event in 1848. The unpopular Prussian king, Frederich Wilhelm IV, came to town to preside at a festival. As his carriage paraded under the chestnut trees, he was greeted with shouts of derision and barrages of horse droppings. It caused quite a scandal and no small amount of repression. To make amends, the Dusseldorfer city fathers sent a letter of apology and renamed the street Konigsallee after the king. Actually, only half the street was renamed. The western side wasn’t called Konigsallee until 1905.

By 1915, the beautifully designed Konigsallee had become the heart of Dusseldorf, with more than 100 luxury shops, a number of concert cafes and a fashionable cinema.

The Nazis had a brief fling at renaming the street after one of their dark heroes, but it didn’t take, and as soon as the dust from World War II had settled, Ko merchants were doing business in the ruins. In 1946, New York Times columnist James Reston called the street a “bazaar on a cemetery.”

After years of rebuilding, the Ko is again an international boulevard with a full calendar of cultural and fashion events around the year. Many people say it has become life’s stage upon which to play out a role, the most important part of which is choosing the correct costume.

Shopping, window-shopping or simply strolling under the chestnut trees and watching the people is an experience.

Did I buy anything besides lunch? I purchased a handsomely tailored, fashionably elongated, forest-green velvet blazer for $80, and a pair of brown leather snow boots on sale for $30, but I bought them around the corner from the Ko, on the Shadowstrasse, where life is real and budgets count.