A bitter-suite memory of our pre-covid high streets
SOME months ago we ordered a new suite, the old one having suffered years of abuse from kids, cats and collective bums.
After waiting what seemed like forever, our new couches arrived.
Unfortunately, the old suite had yet to vacate the premises and for a while resided in the garden, parked resentfully on the patio.
The problem was we struggled to find anyone to take it away. The usual course of action would be to donate to a charity shop but they were – and still are – closed.
And suddenly it struck me what a hole their absence has left.
I know we’re all craving the bustle of retail and aching to once again wander through John Lewis gazing at stuff we will never buy. Our city centres and high streets – and the people who work in them – have paid a terrible price.
But pity the poor charity shops. Already run on a shoe-string I reckon their closure has left a bigger hole than we appreciated at the outset of lockdown – and not just in terms of income to charities.
For a great many people they are a lifeline. If you’re on a limited budget, where else might you stand a chance of a bargain pair of boots or a cheap chest of drawers?
I don’t just mean students crafting an alternative look or fashion mavens searching for a discarded designer bag. I mean ordinary folk with bills to pay and homes to furnish, and for whom charity shops offer an thrifty alternative.
Of course for others, charity shops are one of life’s pleasures.
They are mini department stores stuffed to the gunnels with all kinds of things; Aladdin’s caves of treasure piled on shelves and in boxes. I know folk who can while away an entire afternoon rooting through the 50p books or turning over the china oddments and wondering if £3 is too much to pay for a set of wine glasses.
There’s the social aspect too. In my experience charity stores are full of nice people, unhurried shoppers and patient volunteers, all happy to pass the time of day. Perhaps it’s being surrounded by other people’s lives, but there is a strange camaraderie of this collision between the past and the present.
I wonder what people who normally donate to the British Heart Foundation or Barnardo’s have been doing these past months? Couches aside, our house is overflowing with bags containing the contents of countless rounds of ‘sorting the house out’ during lockdown.
I suspect charity shops may have to have extend their opening hours to cope with the tsunami of stuff heading their way. This is a good thing. Something tells me we’re going to need these places more than ever in the coming months.