EVERY woman holds a secret one group of (mostly) men would give their eye teeth to be let into. They'd love to know exactly what it is that gets us into a store and tempts us to buy.

Unfortunately, it's such a close secret that most women couldn't put it into words.

I doubt, however, that it has much to do - sorry Marks and Spencer - with the colour of the carrier bags. (And what's wrong with green anyway? It doesn't seem to have harmed Harrods. Where do they get focus groups with these odd ideas? But I digress.)

In the wake of the downbeat news from M&S last week, I tried to analyse why I went into shops.

Analysing why I'm no longer an M&S customer was fairly easy, as our last trip there sounded more like the late Peter Tinniswood's comic pair, Uncle Mort and Carter Brandon.

It went like this: "Do you like this?"

"No."

"Nor do I."

Until Sir threatened to abandon us both and wait outside.

But I still went into M&S. Why? Because I live in hopes each new season that I will find the wonderful, plain, dress-it-up, dress-it-down basic outfits which used to be their signature.

The last of those I found was a winter coat, six years ago, and then I had to go to Newcastle before I could try on my size.

Faced with a high street, or mall, full of shops, why did I go in, or not?

Not the window display particularly, nor how the name is displayed on the facia, and the decor or the bag colour just aren't relevant.

Previous success in finding what I want there is almost certain to get me inside.

Once in, pleasant, and knowledgeable, assistants; room to move between displays, and no piped music could well turn me into a buyer.

Those factors don't just apply to clothes shops. I use a wide-aisled, musicless supermarket, which stocks the less usual items on my list, even though it's miles away.

Two fairly recent examples of lost sales show why I appreciate helpful assistants.

The chap in the telephone shop admitted to knowing nothing about the latest model of our elderly multi-function phone and implied that he cared less.

Back at home, on line, we found we could order a replacement for the old 'un's failing handset on its own. We did. It came by return of post.

To spend my birthday vouchers, I ventured into a well-known high street name for a book which topped (still does) the best seller lists.

It wasn't on display, the assistant made sure I'd been looking in the right place then said sorry, they hadn't got it.

No advice on when copies would arrive. No offer to order it. A hundred yards away, another store had a special display and I wanted that book enough to pay real money.

If you can tempt me into your store, the assistants have the key to a sale and, yes, I have stood behind a counter all day, all week, so I know the customer can be anything but right. If, however, your staff aren't trained to know their stock and be helpful, I won't even be tempted inside next time.