Speaking up for charity shops
LET me ask a question: when did you last visit your local charity shop?
I don’t mean to offload last year’s unwanted Christmas gifts or stock up on this year’s Christmas cards.
No, I mean really spend a bit of time there, browsing the shelves and chatting to the staff.
Because if the answer is not for a while then you’re missing out.
A report this week found that two thirds of those questioned are considering buying from a charity store when it comes to their festive shopping.
The Barnardo’s survey discovered that with the cost of Christmas rising rapidly the products in thrift shops now hold a new attraction for a whole new generation.
Once upon a time I’d have raised my eyebrows at this. Who wants to go rooting around other people’s cast-off clobber? Wouldn’t the experience be, well, miserable? And realistically what would I find for me in there?
My mother-in-law has been the queen of the charity shop for years, regularly coming home with all kinds of bargains but I never saw the attraction.
Now, post-pandemic, I think I get it.
For a start, for an awful lot of folk money is tight. Charity shops can be a lifeline for those on a budget and increasingly that’s many of us.
They’ve upped their game too. Take a look in the windows at the newly-cleaned furniture they stock, the barely-used toys, the pristine books.
Sadly, we remain, despite everything, a throwaway society and increasingly what tend to throw away is not tat.
Charity shops are also a good antidote to the hyped-up spendathon of Black Friday and Cyber Monday, that relentless push to excess just because there’s a few pounds off.
There’s no slick marketing or glitzy displays in British Heart Foundation or Sue Ryder. Just stuff you might find useful at a good price.
Then there are those for whom charity shopping is a hobby. Entire online communities are out there, populated by folk who dedicate their time to teasing out finds – costume jewellery, retro handbags – and showing them off on Facebook.
I’ve no idea if anyone ever unearths a Picasso from their local Oxfam store but it’s compulsive to follow.
Best of all, I reckon charity shops may be part of the answer to filling the hole in communities up and down the land left by the closure of libraries and Post Offices.
These were the places where in the past people would meet up and chat; exchange news, had a gossip, feel like they belonged. Yes, business was done – stamps bought, books exchanged – but they also helped with the business of mankind.
For all the coming together of the last few months loneliness, particularly among the older generation, remains an issue.
Coffee shops are all well and good but how much caffeine can you drink in a day? Not everyone wants to go to church or join a club.
In charity shops there is time. Staff chat, shoppers compare, conversations happen. Everyone in there is usually local.
You can part with a couple of quid for a good cause and get a good chat thrown in for free.
In these isolating times, that can be priceless.