'There's something for everybody,' says Ms Lam, a former university lecturer, as she leads the way through her new-found playground just minutes shy of the border control building at Lowu. Weaving through an arcade in the Lowu Commercial City on a recent Monday, the main shopping complex where enthusiastic women offer everything from pneumatic foot massages to dental work, she reels off prices: $60 for an hour's massage; $15 for social-dance lessons; and $1,600 for a four-hour session of Cantonese opera (the equivalent of about $350 per person). For that price, the women can trill along to the live accompaniment of 10 experienced musicians.

Ms Lam and her friends are not the only money-conscious Hong Kongers who have warmed to Shenzhen. What began as a trickle of day-trippers heading across the border is growing into a flow as the mainland's first special economic zone gradually re-invents itself as a consumer paradise.

Known for its illegal abortion clinics and brothels since the 1980s and recently as the place to shop for fake goods, Shenzhen has long been regarded by Hong Kongers as the bete noir across the border.

This is why, to locals, 'heading for Shenzhen' has always had a dodgy ring to it. The fact the city is now the preferred place of leisure for many Hong Kong women adds a quirky twist. Just several years ago it was looked upon with disdain as the place where Hong Kong husbands kept their mistresses.

A trip to Shenzhen is becoming more acceptable for one simple reason: it is economically viable. The present penny-pinching climate is helping cast an even more attractive light over the city.

'Entertainment in Hong Kong seems more expensive after Shenzhen,' Ms Lam says. An avid amateur Cantonese opera singer, she says a similar four-hour session in the SAR costs about $4,000 - with fewer and less talented backing musicians. 'Singing two songs in Hong Kong would set me and my friends back $1,400 - that's enough money for me to pay for a day of fun in Shenzhen,' she says.

'[Discovering Shenzhen] definitely affected my shopping patterns back in Hong Kong. Now I am more a regular consumer [in Shenzhen] than back home. I don't even hang out in Hong Kong nowadays because I don't feel I'm getting my money's worth.' Another reason for Shenzhen's popularity, especially among housewives, is the relative convenience in getting there (notwithstanding the hassle of going through the border checkpoint and battling crowds on weekends or public holidays).

'Housewives can come to Shenzhen and pack yum cha, singing and shopping in one day, and still be able to return home in time to prepare dinner for the family,' says Ms Lam, who usually begins her 90-minute trek home before sunset.

That she travels all the way from Pokfulam (at least once every two weeks) speaks volumes about how much Shenzhen means to her. 'One day in Shenzhen gives you a sense of accomplishment; it is like killing many birds with one stone,' Ms Lam says. 'The day is long for housewives - and this is a very worthwhile way to kill time.' But Shenzhen's new generation of visitors comprises not only housewives. Young adults, too, flock to the city to have fun and to stock up on goods.

According to a street poll conducted in Sheung Shui by the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment of Hong Kong last month, 93 per cent of 207 respondents said they shop in Shenzhen - a five-minute train ride away. More than half said they visited more than once every two weeks and spent up to $1,000 each time.

The difference in prices can be huge. For example, Ms Lam says, an intricate lace curtain she bought for her living-room window cost less than $300 - half what it would be in Hong Kong shops. Tailor-made clothing is also vastly cheaper in Shenzhen - due in large part to the low price of fabrics.

While Lowu Commercial City may not offer everything Hong Kongers may desire - you would be hard-pressed to find a Miles Davis album or Californian chardonnay, for instance - it provides much that a typical shopper may need.

'We can just treat it as a day-trip to Shenzhen, packing everything in,' says Ho Wing-sheung, a 40-something frequent shopper in Shenzhen who also enjoys singing Cantonese opera. 'With such inexpensive and quality services, I would not even think of booking into singing parlours in Hong Kong again.' Ms Ho adds: 'I have friends who are teachers and they visit Shenzhen on weekends for therapeutical massage to alleviate their neck pain; the price charged in Hong Kong is ludicrously high, amounting to hundreds of dollars each time.' AN added bonus of Shenzhen, Ms Lam says, is the service customers receive, from singing parlours, for example. 'The musicians are much more into the spirit of things and definitely know how to please,' she says. 'They applaud when we finish singing, they recognise that we are their clients. Those in Hong Kong, however, are stuck up and judgmental; you don't feel the satisfaction you should after paying for a session.' A Hong Kong-based musician agrees. Declining to be named, he admits his Shenzhen counterparts charge much less and are more courteous than musicians in Hong Kong.

'The price for Hong Kong musicians rocketed several years ago when there were fewer musicians around, and they are reluctant to cut the fees even in these economic climes,' he says. 'The prices are even steeper than those in [singing parlours in the Chinatowns of] the United States or Canada.

'Musicians here make clear their displeasure in accompanying a bad singer; but band leaders in Shenzhen make it a point to tell their musicians to behave well and applaud - they are clients after all.' The musician also believes the quality of Shenzhen-based musicians is higher than in Hong Kong. 'A lot of them are classically trained - here a lot are just amateurs who turned pro years ago to earn a quick buck,' he says.

The difference in attitude is due to the cut-throat competition in Shenzhen, Ms Lam believes, pointing to the 3,000 masseurs who have taken up work in the shopping complexes next to the railway station alone. And as is increasingly becoming common in Hong Kong because of the economic downturn, some shops in Shenzhen are so eager for business they employ women to shove business cards into the hands of potential customers - their enthusiasm explained by the fact they receive several dollars for each customer they lure.

On top of everything, the introduction last week of the more efficient computer-coded entry cards to replace the present home return permits - which mainland customs offices must stamp with entry and exit chops - will probably entice Ms Lam and other housewives to visit Shenzhen more often. Perhaps then, retailers and service providers in Hong Kong will take up the challenge to woo them back.