I’m standing on Great Marlborough Street, separated from the monochrome gem that is Liberty London by a line of stationary black cabs. I usually walk straight in through the main entrance, past the florists with their colourful array of bouquets, and into the main atrium with its towering, artistic installations surrounded by beautifully crafted designer handbags.

Today, however, I’m sneaking in through the side door. I want to wander through the Scarf Hall, touch silks and chiffon in heritage designs and bold prints with roots in faraway lands.

Maybe I’ll be transported inside a 19th-century novel, with gardens and florals, or to an ancient market on the dusty Silk Road. This was the idea of the founder, Arthur Lasenby Liberty, who famously imported Eastern silks, art objects and textiles from afar. Liberty paints a stunning picture with words on their website - that his dream was to ‘metaphorically dock a ship in the city streets’.

As the founder himself put it: “I was determined not to follow existing fashions but to create new ones.”

I don’t think it’s far-fetched to say that at times, Liberty feels otherworldly. I think it’s because it engages all the senses from the moment you step through the door. From the bright jewellery hall, with its renowned collection of curated antiques, to contemporary designers like Marie Lichtenberg, rich in folklore, everything tells a story.

There are floors of fashion, beauty, fabrics and fragrance. And they do fragrance well. The Liberty Tudor scent smells to me like their old stairways in a bottle – it’s always on my dressing table.

So, what is it that draws in so many visitors, even those not intending to splurge? It’s beauty and connection. The experience of being a part of something iconic. It makes us feel something.

When we experience beauty, the brain treats it as a profound reward, and we experience awe. Standing in a space like Liberty’s atrium can trigger feelings of awe, with its towering heights and symmetrical design. It allows your brain to release not just dopamine but serotonin, the happy hormone, and induces a meditative, peaceful state.

Human brains are wired for storytelling. In old buildings, we can unconsciously feel connected to the generations who came before us.

Liberty is like a cocktail of beauty, a layer cake of history and story on each floor. A ship that arrived, docked, and endured.

I pick up a silk scarf, as green as the sea that the ship sailed, and slip it around my neck. Now I’m also a part of their story.