Turning your Trash inTo cash
BOOTY-FUL: Dominic, with wife Heidi and children Eithne and Albert get into the spirit of buying and selling wine glasses. “They’re three pounds,” she said. “If you don’t like it, move on.”
The customer moved on. Helen shrugged – her pitch, loaded with household ornaments and crockery, was attracting plenty of other attention. I took the opportunity to ask her why she was here.
“Oh that’s simple,” she laughed. “I needed to earn some money. My husband’s disabled and things are very tight, so I took a look around my home and realised I could get rid of a lot of stuff and make a few quid into the bargain.”
sHE also admitted that since attending her first sale earlier this summer, she has been bitten by the carboot bug. “The important thing is to stick to your guns on prices,” she said. “But also to be realistic. You need to remember that people are here for a bargain – and that anything you sell is something you really want to get rid of. You don’t want to go home wishing you’d got more for something. “And it’s fun! You’re outside, in the sunshine, meeting all sorts of people, having a laugh, hopefully making a bit of money too. What’s not to love?” A little further along from Helen, a similarly jumbled stall was manned by Karen Savage from nearby Wooburn Green, along with her father-in-law and teenage daughter
Ted Megan.
“My mother-in-law passed away in February and we discovered she was a bit of a hoarder, so we’re trying to sell all of her stuff,” she explains. “This the eighth sale we’ve done since May. We started with clothes, now we’re on to the kitchen.
“After this we’ll move on to the attic. To be honest we’re getting to the stage where we’re happy to get rid of everything for a pound a go.”
As we chat, a man carefully examines a selection of ornamental pots and I ask Karen if she’s ever worried about accidentally selling something valuable.
“Oh I can’t see that happening here, can you?” she laughs. The man, I can’t help noticing, buys all four of her pots, dutifully handing over his pound coins.
By the time I return to our own pitch, the skies are darkening. Rain is in the air. Some stallholders are already packing up, others are throwing plastic sheets over their goods. With around half our stuff sold Heidi informs me that we’re over £40 in profit.
Albert shows me a giant cuddly penguin he has bought. “The man said it was five pounds, but I lied and told him I had only three pounds, so he said I could have it for just three,” he tells me proudly.
“Albert,” I say, “let’s me and you go looking for Chinese vases…”
Every Sunday Britain sells its knick-knacks at 1,800 car-boot sales. DOMINIC UTTON finds out whether he has the Midas touch