It's supermarket suite for Dan

It is now possible to buy almost everything under one roof. Smaller retailers are feeling the pinch from the almost unstoppable expansion of supermarket chains such as Tesco and Asda, writes Dan Wainwright.

The need for cheap goods, without the need to travel far and wide to get them, has grown ever greater as our council tax bills soar, our fuel prices rise and our mortgages become more difficult to pay.

But if you can buy all you need under one roof, do you really even need your own roof any more?

For 48 hours I have lived inside Wolverhampton's branch of Asda. I was forbidden to have any items of my own on my person.

Everything from the food I ate to the clothes on my back had to come from that store. If I could not find it, then I would have to do without.

Here is part one of my life inside Asda.

MONDAY

8am

Having secured the permission of Asda's head office, and the co-operation of bosses at the Wolverhampton branch, I arrive at the Jack Hayward Way store.

My first and most pressing need is to find a change of clothing. I am not allowed to wear anything brought in from outside, so without an alternative, this experiment would end pretty quickly, in the back of a police van.

Instead of a suit for £19, I opt for something a little more casual. I buy a pair of trainers (£20), jeans (£9), T-shirt (£8) and jumper (£8).

My underwear for my entire stay is taken care of in one go with a pack of three pairs of black socks for £1 and four button-fly pants for £9. I could opt for the Smart Price white Y-fronts – three for £3 – but even though I have no plans to show them off, I decide to treat myself.

8.45am

Suitably attired, the next task is to find myself some shelter. I am fortunate that this morning, the store's seasonal range of camping equipment has arrived, including a tent (£9.48).

Had it not, then I would probably have had to resort to fashioning the sort of den I used to make in the lounge as a child out of a clothes horse and a bed sheet.

With the assistance of the store's events co-ordinator Lynn Joyce, I start to set up the tent at the front of the store. Unfortunately, we seem to be unable to get the thing to stand up. The instructions refer to some "pole pockets" at the front but we can't find any.

Lynn suggests two exercise mats to give the tent some grip (£3.76 each) but even though this stops the tent slipping, we still can't stand it up.

We are saved by Clare Denner, a 23-year-old physics graduate who studied at the University of Oxford, who pops one of the attached pins into the tent pole and takes off the flysheet, which I have haphazardly slung over the top, to put it the right way around.

9.05am

Next we fetch an air bed from the camping supplies (£9.94), and I end up slicing the top of my thumb while ham-fistedly opening the box. Lynn returns with a plaster from the first-aid kit. As I can't be trusted with the simplest of tasks, we decide to buy an electric pump (£7.47), which plugs into the mains, to inflate the mattress, and complete my home with a sleeping bag for £9.25.

10am

My little tent is quite comfortable but I decide I need something to sit on so I can watch the world go by. I fetch a black "studio" chair (£10) and a garden table (£20). From here, I can read the book, Man and Boy by Tony Parsons, which I have bought for £4.

I am not yet too hungry but I know I will be soon, so I'm going to need some means of preparing food. A 26-piece cutlery set is £2.97, while a glass costs me £2.25 and a mug £2. A smart plastic plate is £2, and I opt for this rather than anything breakable. I can get a portable gas cooker for £8.98 and a pan set for £11.48, along with a kettle for £4.97.

As predicted, I am understandably not allowed to cook things in the middle of the store but as long as I can buy a means to do so from the shop floor, the rules of my challenge permit me to use staff facilities.

11am

Now that I am famished, I decide to prepare myself some brunch. A pack of sausages is 84p, with bacon for £1.88, black pudding for £1.28, six free-range eggs for £1.28 and potato waffles for 69p. There is plenty left over after I am full. I also fetch a pint of semi-skimmed milk for 76p, 80 tea bags for 32p and a newspaper for 80p, as it is still some time before the Express & Star hits the stands.

While I tuck in to my feast, a man prods my airbed, while a youth peers inside the tent with a bemused expression.

An elderly lady looks at the E&S advertising board I have put up explaining that this is a "Living in Asda" challenge and says: "Rather you than me." She asks how I intend to sleep in a 24-hour store. She does not know that I am renowned for sleeping through anything which does not measure on the Richter Scale.

Suddenly an alarm goes off at the front door and I begin to regret my bravado.

12 noon

Asda has not missed a trick. Realising the interest the arrival of my tent has prompted, Lynn puts out a stand of tents. I settle down to read my book.

2pm

I am surprisingly hungry again, despite having done nothing remotely strenuous since before I last gorged myself stupid. I pick up a microwaveable lasagne for £2. To cook it, I can use a microwave in the staff canteen but only if I can find one in the shop. I choose – from Asda's own brand of electronics, Onn – a model for £43.97. I also stock up on fruit – four bananas for 77p and a packet of grapes for £1.78.

4pm

It occurs to me that I really don't fancy another full English breakfast for my dinner later but I am still surrounded by perishable goods.

Asda does do fridges but they have to be delivered. A Lec fridge-freezer would cost £180 but that's no use to me with a load of sausage and bacon going off. I can't use the staff facilities if I can't find an equivalent in the store. I know my mother is coming to see me later, so I resolve to eat the same meal again and give her what's left over to avoid wasting it. I should have just had breakfast in the cafe.

6pm

I pick up today's Express & Star for 38p and I can get a 23-inch Cello TV for £248.99, with a Durabrand DVD player for £16.97. If I want to watch TV, I'll need an aerial for £25 and a Freeview box for £15.97 to enable me to watch The Simpsons. My parents have now popped in to see me and do their shopping.

7pm

My friends David and Simon arrive to see me, along with my girlfriend Kate. This is a perfect opportunity to play the host and offer them whatever tipple takes their fancy.

We explore the beers aisle and contemplate opening a bottle of whisky until I realise the fatal flaw. Asda is licensed for the sale of alcohol to drink only off the premises, apart from for tasting sessions. This is torture.

Instead, I have to make them a pot of tea with a £4 pot and some more £2 mugs.

8pm

Perhaps we can amuse ourselves with a game of poker. Unfortunately, the games aisle does not contain a single pack of cards. Desperate for something to do, we resort to a kickabout with a football until, very quickly, we realise that none of us can kick a ball for toffee.

I put the ball back and grab some deckchairs off the shelf. Sneakily, we will just put them back when we're finished instead of paying for them. We can watch a DVD instead.

As there are still children around, we opt for a child-friendly film and go for Over The Hedge for £5. Actually, it was the DVD that was already in the demo machine, and we couldn't figure out how to hook another one up.

10pm

It's time to think about getting ready for bed. I choose a tube of Macleans toothpaste for 89p, an Asda own-brand toothbrush for £1.28, own brand shampoo for 95p and Lynx Boost shower gel for £1.

I also buy a two-pack of pyjamas for £12, dressing gown for £18, a clean shirt for tomorrow for £12 and slippers for £5 and a pack of two pillows for £2.97. When photographer Tim Sturgess visits, he insists that I also buy a teddy bear but as soon as he has gone, I put it straight back. Honest.

Having been able to buy a TV in the store, I am allowed to watch it for a while in the staff area.

11pm

After climbing into my sleeping bag, I decide I can't sleep without a quick snack. I pad around the store in my pyjamas and dressing gown and consider a Horlicks to send me to sleep. Then I remember I can't stand Horlicks. I contemplate an apple – a healthy snack – but instead opt for cheap sweets at £1 for three packets. Before I can get back to my tent I change my mind again. A sugar rush when trying to sleep in a 24-hour store is not the best idea.

There is a remarkable number of people in the store for this time of night. Amazingly, no-one bats an eyelid at my attire. I am later told that it is because the students who live nearby turn up at all hours in varying states of undress.

1am

I can hear people outside looking at my boards and laughing at the prospect of someone sleeping in the store. I am astounded by the variety of languages being spoken.

I understand a lot of the French and German that I hear, and it's generally the same bewilderment about why someone would want to sleep in a supermarket. A French man shakes my tent and wishes me "Bonne chance". I wish him a "Bon nuit" and try to drift off. The noise of people walking by is not too serious, and I am almost inclined to believe that I might sleep after all.

3am

There is an absurd number of footsteps outside my tent. In many cases, it is the click of high heels indicating young women on their way back from a nightclub – on a Monday, for heaven's sake. Everyone seems to have three footsteps instead of two. The third is the urgent stumble to prevent them falling over from whatever they have been drinking. I hear a man shout that he wants to wake me up. What sounds like four voices surround my tent and call out: "Is there anyone in there?"

I murmur a "yes" and one of the young women shouts: "Oh my God, he was in here when I came in this morning, and again this afternoon." And I thought I was the one who was supposed to be living here.

A series of visitors shake my tent to wake me up. There was never any question of me being asleep. I pull my clothes on over my jim-jams in case it turns worse. Fortunately, the night staff are superstars and politely shoo them away. Unfortunately, however, my night was about to get a lot longer.

Part two tomorrow.